


Meteor Shower

by sparkly_things



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Blindness, Brain Damage, Depression, Disability, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Physical Disability, Post-War, lots of sappy feels cause I'm too romantic, sorry I'm bad at writing tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8323996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkly_things/pseuds/sparkly_things
Summary: After the end of war, Abel and Cain are separated. Abel suffers from the aftereffects of the damage caused by Project Thebes' alien device and is sent back to Earth, while Cain goes home and tries to deal with his feelings of remorse and love. When neither of them can forget about the other, they reunite again and try to restart their post-war life together. Lots of domesticity and fluff.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After weeks and months of struggling, I finally decided to upload this. (/o\\)  
> I have this story in my mind for a long time now; I can't help it, I'm just a sucker for post-war fics and happy endings with fluffy feels. 
> 
> As always, I'm apologizing for any grammatical or language errors, I'm still not a native English speaker. :3 Past tense is a bit tricky for me, but I tried my very best!
> 
> Title is inspired by one of my favourite songs from Owl City which always gives me many shipping-feels. I thought it fits Cain/Abel and this fic pretty well. I really recommend it if you haven't listened to it yet:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dhi1oLbZlZ0
> 
> ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

(((Cain)))

 

He stood awkwardly at the entrance of the medical bay, finishing his cigarette nervously. It was against the rules, but he didn’t give a single fuck about any of them anymore.

He lit another cig and inhaled the smoke with long breaths, hands jittery. He didn’t want to go inside, didn’t want to face the consequences of his coward betrayal, but at the same time he wanted nothing more than being there, sitting beside Abel. He tried not to think of the emotionless face of Bering as he congratulated him for the success of the Shady Plan and handed him his discharge letter and a ticket to return home from the space station they were heading to.

“You did good, son. We got all the information we wanted, the war will take a big turn to our advantage now. All thanks to you and your… brave navigator. Sorry to hear about what happened to him. But you see, every war has sacrifices… And his sacrifice won’t be in waste. He was the key to our victory, and I’m sure he knew that.”

Was the key… knew that…  Bering talked about him as if he was already dead. But he wasn’t. Not yet.

 

Cain grounded out his smoke on the metal floor and opened the med bay door quickly, as if he was afraid to lose the momentarily courage in him to finally enter. The night doctor who were on duty knew him already, shook his head almost sadly upon seeing him.

“You know, you can come during daytime too. It’s not a shame to visit him. No one would bother you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Cain muttered as an answer without even looking at the blond man and waited until the doc opened the door to the small room where Abel slept, along with some badly injured fighters who probably wouldn’t make it, and Keeler, who didn’t wake up since their last battle either.

The last bed was Abel’s; Cain went to him and leant above him for long, silent minutes. There was a lump forming in his throat, but he couldn’t cry anymore. His chest was tight and painful again, as if he was slowly dying from the inside. It was there ever since the battle where he lost Abel, this weird pain, and it only got worse and more burning every time he saw him.

Slowly, he reached out to caress Abel’s face with a shaking hand, feeling the soft, silky skin under the back of his fingers.

“Hello princess…” he whispered almost inaudibly. “It’s me.”

He pulled out the little chair from under the bed and sat beside him, taking Abel’s unmoving right into both of his hands, kissing his cold fingers and massaging them gently.

“You have little icy fingers again, heh…” he pressed his lips to Abel’s hand again and he could feel hot tears forming in his eyes, but he blinked them away embarrassedly. “You should come back to the bunk with me… You could tuck your ice cube hands between us as you used to and freeze my nipples off…” He laughed sadly at the memory, but Abel stayed silent, breathing quietly under his oxygen mask. Cain stayed silent for a long time, head hung low, sniffing occasionally and eyes burning with those damn persistent tears. He couldn’t make himself look at Abel’s unmoving face for long, pale as his silky hair, so sad and peaceful, lying on that white pillow, breathing quietly. He just stared at his slender hand hiding in his darker ones, one of his cute fingers trapped in that gross white clip to monitor his heartbeat; a slow, steady beeping in the darkened room that was Abel’s life. He hated being there, hated that Abel was unconscious, hated to see the tubes and needles covering him, hated the oxygen mask for hiding his pretty face, hated that he felt like it was all his fault. He wanted to run away, to hide in the bunk until he could get on the shuttle back to the colonies, forgetting Abel and his softness and his dark eyes and how much he loved him, how much he hated himself for hurting him. But instead he just rubbed at his eyes, took a deep, shaky breath, and continued holding Abel’s hand with his right, caressing his skinny thigh under the sterile white blankets.

He remembered that damned night again that kept haunting him, when Abel just wanted to cuddle and listen to some sappy playlist he made; just wanted to be held and kissed and caressed, but had to make a crappy playlist to have an excuse to tug himself close to his fighter and to hear some disgustingly romantic words while being held, even if they were sang by some stranger and not whispered by the man he wanted to hear sweet words from. Cain remembered his hopeful eyes too clearly, how he plopped down next to him with his blanket-covered frame, giving Cain one end of his headphones so they can listen to the songs together. He heard the songs clearly in his head, still felt Abel’s soft locks on his shoulder as he leaned on him and tried to entwine their fingers. Still heard clearly in his head how he snarled and ridiculed the songs cause they were telling stories about feelings he was too afraid to admit having. Abel got hurt and they never finished listening to the songs, fucked rough and hard instead cause he wanted Abel to forget his soft feelings, or maybe wanted himself to do so. But now that Abel was unconscious and the possibility of losing him kept creeping closer, he couldn’t help but listening to that silly playlist on repeat every time he was alone with his sadness and remorse in their bunk.

“You know I… listened to that playlist you made once…  The one you wanted to listen together.” He whispered, voice cracking as the tears finally won their little battle against him, his throat tight and his chest more painful than ever as he let some of them rolling down his cheeks. He buried his face on top of Abel’s hand on the bed, trying his hardest not to break down crying. “I’m sorry… sorry that I made fun of you when you showed it. Shouldn’t have said those things, didn’t mean them… I like the songs Abel, so just… wake up okay so we can listen to them together, just… just wake up please… I will listen to every freakin’ sappy song and listen to your silly stories and your dumb jokes, I love your jokes Abel, even if they are the worst fucking jokes ever… and I’ll turn the vents on when I smoke and won’t get into more fights and put my fucking laundry away…. Just please wake the fuck up… I miss you…  wake up….”

But Abel stayed asleep.

 

***

 

It had been almost three weeks since the battle and Abel still didn’t wake up from the coma, so people slowly started to give up on him. The doctor talked about some brain injury, that Abel would probably be sent home if he woke up, unable to fulfil his task as a navigator or some shit.  _If_ Abel woke up, that is.

They were getting closer to the space station, and everyone started to ask him if the rumours are true, if they really discharged him, or if he would stay in the army and get a new navigator. But he didn’t want a new navigator, didn’t want to stay there and didn’t want to go back to the colonies; the only thing he cared about was sitting by Abel’s bed every night and hoping he would finally wake up and tell him what to do, even if he would send him away and hate him for betraying him and putting him there in that situation. Even Abel alive and hating him was better than Abel unconscious or even worse…. dead.

He always went to him at night, never during daytime. He didn’t like the pitying looks, the annoying worried small talk every visitor made to him. He didn’t like to sit in awkward silence with Encke, who spent every possible minute with his – probably slowly dying – navigator. Keeler looked even worse than Abel; skinnier and paler than he remembered, all skin and bones and big dark circles under his closed eyes. He didn’t bother asking the doc on night duty about him; not his navigator, not his problem. So he kept visiting only at night, every night, rather enduring the disgusted looks of people who thought he never visited Abel than coming during daytime. He spent his days sitting in the bunk on their little love-nest made on the floor from the mattresses, drinking, crying, jerking off and staring into nothing in turns. He smoked like a chimney, turning on the vents even tho Abel was not there to complain. Didn’t want the whole room to smell when Abel came back. He slept on Abel’s side, burying his face into his pillow, trying to catch any remaining scent of him. He even took one of Abel’s hoodies with him, cuddling it to his face and inhaling Abel’s scent. It had Abel’s real scent on it; he liked to wear it when he worked in the bunk at night and his small fingers turned icy from the cold, or after sex when he was freezing and quickly put it on before returning to the warmth of Cain’s arms. Cain liked how it looked on him, even if he always teased him about it; it was one of the smallest sizes and yet it hung so loosely on his bony shoulders, made him look all sweet and fuckable and Cain loved it.

Then one day, as he lied there, sprawled out on Abel’s pillow with his hoodie, listening to the lovey-dovey playlist he made for the two of them – insisting it was only a bunch of songs he happened to like, of course – and drowning in his own misery, he got the message. It didn’t come from medical as he thought it would; it came from Encke. Three words, three little words and Cain felt dizzy and sick and happy and scared at the same time.

“He is awake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it, end of the first chapter!
> 
> I'm very thankful for everyone who read it and grateful for every kudos/comments. ♡
> 
> Next chapters are already written, but I tend to over-check everything before uploading. I try to be fast with it tho!


	2. Chapter 2

(((Abel)))

 

Days passed and Cain never came to visit. When he woke up and didn’t find him anywhere close, he got panicky and scared. When he didn’t appear anytime soon and didn’t reply to his first message, he thought he was dead, and everyone around him kept it a secret from him with the excuse that he needed to stay calm and heal. On the third day, he sent another message. His fingers moved slowly and clumsily, his hands getting spastic and causing him to drop the phone several times, so it took him a long while to write down even some small words.

“Cain, please come by. I need to see you.”

But no answer again. No visit again.

He kept asking around about Cain; asked the doctors, the navigators who visited him, and also Praxis and Encke, the only fighters who came by. But no one knew a thing about Cain, or no one was willing to say anything. They said he can be hardly seen, not even around the mess hall or the showers. That he was probably in shock after the battle, and that he would surely visit soon.

He was worried about him, so worried about him, but couldn’t reach him, being confined to his bed and being watched almost every minute. But as the fifth day passed, he just couldn’t sit around anymore. He needed to see Cain, needed to know if he really was alive. Everything was better than uncertainty.

Thinking he gathered enough strength, he waited until the evening examinations. The med bay was full now; many soldiers had been wounded during the last big battle with the Colterons, when they took down their shipyard, and apparently won. He couldn’t remember much, but Ethos and Encke told him everything in details. The doctor and a nurse came by his bed, stressed but politely kind as they checked Abel’s stats and gave him the meds he took for the night- mostly painkillers and sedatives to help him sleep. He waited patiently until they moved to the next room, spat the pills out that he kept in his mouth and took action finally.

He slowly pushed himself up from bed; his hands were shaky and his vision blurred slightly as he stood up, putting down his legs carefully, one after another. Luckily the white hospital pajamas they gave him could be almost mistaken as the navigators’ fatigues they wore around the gym sometimes, so he only put on his med bay shoes, soft and comfy, and started for the door. His knees were weak and his whole body trembled, his head felt dizzy and he felt panicky, looking around searching for an unknown danger or monster, fearing that the walls would squeeze him or that red alert lights and loud sirens would go off, but he kept going. The room swayed as he moved forward slowly, so he grabbed every solid object he found to keep himself from falling. The front room of the med bay was empty, no visitors allowed by medical checkups and all the staff being in the other rooms, checking on the other wounded. He escaped his white prison and started for the elevators.

He felt weaker than ever, scared of getting caught and scared of collapsing to the floor, but he kept going forward. He slowly pushed himself along the walls, searching for support as he advanced carefully; first to the elevator, then out to a quiet, long corridor and another elevator. Some fighters passed him, but luckily they were not like always worrying navigators who stuck their noses to others’ business all the time, and passed by him pretending not to notice him at all. He turned to another elevator, the last one before he reached the bunk level. As the door slid open a navigator hurried in, looking at his tablet with furrowed eyebrows, and only noticed the escaping med bay fugitive when the lift doors were already closing, looking at him in shock and trying to prey to the doors open – too late.

The walk to their bunk seemed like an eternal road, and Abel could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His knees failed on him several times and he needed to hold himself up against the walls as he crawled by, step by step, meter by meter, until he finally reached their door. He felt blinded by the intense headache that attacked him now that the painkiller wasn’t in his system, and he could barely tap in the enter code on the small panel, his fingers shaking from the exhaustion and from the sharp pain, but he managed for the second try, the door panel sliding open with a hiss.

He stumbled into the small room, missing a step and falling miserably, his knees and right shoulder hitting the ground painfully. He heard himself whimpering in a small voice, trying to push himself up but just slumping further down to the cold metal floor, his hands giving up on him. He felt frightened and pathetic, tears forming in his eyes.

But at least he was inside the room. _Their room_. But where was Cain? He must had heard him, seen him enter. Where was he…?

Suddenly two strong hands reached under his arms and pulled him up, right into the arms of someone familiar, someone safe and warm and strong.

 _Cain_ …

He was half lying, half sitting in Cain’s lap, his head on his muscular shoulders, leaning on him. Too weak to stand, too weak to hold himself up.

“Cain…” He whispered, almost too low to be heard, a relieved smile on his scarred lips. Cain looked at him with wide eyes; disbelief, surprise, happiness and fear reflecting in them.

“Abel…. Abel, what the fuck are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

“You’re alive… I needed to see you… I sent messages… thought you were dead...” Every word was a struggle, his mind foggy and slow from the pain. He reached up to Cain’s face with trembling hands, the tears escaping and rolling down his cheeks freely as he quietly sobbed, caressing the stubbly cheeks with shivery fingers.

Cain grabbed onto his hand, squeezing it and staring at Abel as if he was seeing a ghost, eyes still wide with disbelief.

“You… you should be in bed… I take you back to medical…” he whispered hoarsely after long minutes, suddenly looking away from Abel and avoiding his gaze. Slowly, distractedly, he reached under the navigator and tried to scoop him up, but the man grabbed onto his shirt and yanked it weakly, fists beating his chest feebly.

“Why didn’t you come?” Abel cried out with another sob. “I was waiting for you… everyone else came but you… I thought you were dead! Why?”

Cain still didn’t meet his eyes, but stopped his ministrations to get him up from the floor, half-hugging Abel’s skinny body to his. He breathed heavily, his lips trembled slightly.

“I know everything…” Abel whimpered. “I know everything about the secret plan… Encke told me. Oh Cain… you never cared about me, did you…?”

Abel cried miserably by then. All his insecurities and loneliness that he bottled up since his awakening in the medical bay, all his shock and sadness upon hearing what a crazy plot he participated in unwillingly, all the pain caused by Cain’s apparent betrayal and lies, they all took over him now, now that he was lying in Cain’s arms; in the arms of the man he grew to love with all his body and soul, the man who seemingly never gave a second thought about him but whatever things Bering and Cook promised him.

“It was all a lie, wasn’t it…. All the sweet words and the sex and everything… you never even liked me, did you... You only cared about yourself the whole time –

“It’s not true!!” Cain suddenly interrupted, finally meeting Abel’s waterfall eyes. “I did care, Abel…. fuck…. you don’t understand.”

“Then tell me.”

“I never wanted this… Damn, I didn’t know this will happen to you! I just wanted to get home, never expected for you to come and be like this...”

“Be like what?”

Cain was silent for a long time again, cradling Abel in his arms and slowly rocking him absentmindedly, his eyes teary and red by then too.

“… like… perfect….” he finally exhaled silently, a single teardrop slowly finding his way down his cheeks. “Never wanted you to get hurt, Abel… Thought you never wanted to see my sorry ass, I fucked up, almost killed you…. I never knew this going to happen.”

He broke down now, hanging his head low and his shoulder shaking lightly, and it made Abel’s chest even tighter. He laced his arms around Cain’s neck and pulled their bodies together, hugging him tightly and desperately, both of them clutching onto the other as if it was for the last time.

 

They sat like that for minutes or hours, none of them could tell. Abel felt out of his body, exhaustion and pain taking over him, crying slowly lulling him to sleep on Cain’s shoulder. He woke up for the fighter moving under him, pulling him to their shared bed on the floor and tucking both of their shivering bodies under the light comforters. They laid close, facing each other; Cain’s finger shadowing over the fainting scar on Abel’s lip as he whispered almost inaudibly:

“Do you hate me?”

Abel stared at him with tired eyes, too worn out to move. His eyes were puffy from crying, face swollen and red.

“I don’t know…” He murmured back. “I don’t think I can… I don’t want to think about it now.”

Cain caressed his cheek softly with an uncharacteristic gentleness, cautiously moving even closer until his lips were merely centimeters away.

“I want to kiss you…” He breathed emotionally in an almost scared way; nearly touching his lips to Abel’s quivering one. “… can I?”

“Yeah.” Abel replied barely audibly and closed his eyes, his heart beating faster as he felt his loved one pressing his mouth on his gently, like a first kiss. He just held himself against him, his hand cupping Abel’s face, unmoving. “I missed you…” he whispered, breaking the long kiss before pressing another one sweetly to his navigators silk lips, and Abel fell asleep with a tinge of hopeful happiness in his confused heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally came around to post the second chapter!
> 
> To be completely honest I'm not very happy with how this one turned out, but I don't think any further editing would do any good to it at this point, so I'll just go with this!
> 
> THANK YOU very much for the kudos and comments for the first chapter! ♡ ♡ ♡  
> It was extremely encouraging, you guys made me very happy! (;w;)  
> I hope this story won't be any less than your expectations. ♡


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically pwp, so here comes the E rated stuff guys!  
> It was my first time writing smut, thus I'm posting this a bit nervously...

(((Abel)))

 

Next morning he woke up to Cain slowly pressing kisses to his shoulder. His body was hot and hard against his, and he could already feel his heartbeat getting faster. He let out a sleepy whimper and leant his head backwards, allowing Cain a better reach at his sensitive neck.

It was still early, way too early for most of the soldiers to be up; the ship was silent, and Abel felt like he was back in those calm and happy days when they woke up long before their scheduled duties only to make slow, sleepy love to each other, savouring every little touch, sound and movement of the other; when his only worry was the upcoming battle and the war, whether they could win and return to their starbase safely. He remembered all the sweet silly images that filled his head before he went to sleep, his dreams about discharging from the army together with Cain, falling madly in love and starting a sappily happy life together. He was too scared to believe in any of them coming true, but in a hidden corner of his heart, it was everything he desired.

Now the battle was over and he was safe. Well, relatively safe. Cain was safe. They made it out alive.

Yet, all the things Encke told him about the Shady Plan he was apparently involved in made him question all his dreams and hopes, all his feelings and desires. Especially the ones involving Cain.

But in that moment, he wanted to forget all about his worries. His body was weak and his head still pounded painfully. He knew that he should return to the med bay as soon as possible, but he rather risked his condition getting worse than leaving the comfort of the other man’s embracing arms.

He wanted to feel Cain. For one last time, he wanted to feel him without any restraint or concerns; he just wanted to feel his bruising love, his hot body on him, inside him, around him, everywhere, overwhelming him and consuming him in body and soul.

So he buried his hands in Cain’s dark, unruly locks and pulled his head up to meet his lips in a fiery kiss. Their lips slid against each other, tongues tasting the other’s hungrily. The kiss was sloppy and desperate, but none of them cared. Abel whimpered into the kiss and tried to pull Cain even closer, pulling him on top of him hungrily. Cain obliged, climbing on top of his navigator and settling  between his legs quickly, grinding their aching hardness together. Abel instinctively hooked his legs behind Cain’s back, moving his hips along with him to get more of the sweet friction.

They were lost between their consuming lust and their desire to take things slow, getting rid of their unnecessary clothes quickly, but continuing their naked make out session for long, luscious minutes, whispering loving little things into their kisses.

“I need you.” Abel sighed. “I need you closer.”

Cain let out a low groan and slid his hands down on Abel torso, caressing his silky hot skin before dipping his fingers tentatively inside him, one after the other, opening him up for his love. Abel winced slightly at the intrusion, his body tensing up; his heart wanted to forget all the unsaid tension between them, but his mind could not, making his muscles rigid and hard, his fingers clutching into Cain’s hair stronger.

“Relax, sweetheart.” He whispered huskily into his ears, scattering kisses over his jaw, sucking and licking the sensitive skin at the junction of his velvety neck and shoulders.

“Ah… I’m trying to…” Abel exhaled softly, and decided to shake all of his doubts out from his thoughts. He tried focusing on Cain’s caressing fingers inside him, imagining that the last battle never happened, that he was the same as before, trusting Cain blindly and wanting him madly. His body slowly relaxed and he shivered, moaning loudly when Cain finally found that sweetest spot that drove him crazy.

The fighter suddenly removed his fingers and reached up to turn the navigator’s panting face to him, kissing him deeply and slowly as he carefully entered his trembling body, his throbbing hardness filling Abel’s aching emptiness - a bittersweet pain he never realized how much he needed.

They broke the kiss, breathing in each other’s moans and soft cries as Cain buried himself deeply into him, stilling for some moments, gently pushing their lips together from time to time as they waited for Abel to adjust to Cain’s thickness. Finally Cain lowered his head and pecked at Abel’s most sensitive spots under his ear, starting to move in and out of him carefully, and Abel felt like porcelain, threatened by breaking under the pressure of Cain’s burning love.

They almost never made love like this before. Their insatiable desire for sex and for each other always led them to heated sex, more times bruising and wild than gentle, but they did have their sweet moments occasionally. But cuddling and kissing while fucking wasn’t Cain’s thing; he preferred going at it roughly and raw, kissing Abel deeply and sucking on his tongue only when he stopped not to come too fast. But right then, he cradled Abel’s body as if he was important and fragile, his body flush against his, trying to touch at every possible centimetre, kissing Abel and pecking at his lips almost constantly. The navigator let himself sink into this feeling, into this volatile illusion of love and need and understanding that he always craved so much, hugging Cain close to him with his arms and circling his thighs tightly around the bigger man’s lower back, rocking in rhythm with his fighter and returning his kisses with the same fire he received them with.

They both felt it, the longing for this to last forever, to enjoy this as slowly as possible, but their screaming desires pushed them forward, making their movements faster and more desperate with every thrust of Cain’s hips, and Abel found himself moaning Cain’s name as he came between them, hot and sticky and so blissful. Cain followed him soon enough, breathing hot at the base of Abel’s neck and groaning lowly, gripping at the earthman’s skinny thighs as his orgasm hit him with full force, spilling his seed deep into Abel’s aching body. He still rocked into him slowly, riding out the last waves of his bliss when Abel found himself sobbing quietly, hot tears rolling down his cheeks again. He held onto Cain for dear life, pressing them together as tightly as he could and burying his fingers into his fighter’s dark locks once again. He tried hard not to think about how this might be the last time he felt this gorgeous man this close to him, the last time they made love, the last time they kissed, the last time he felt the sweaty smell of sex and Cain and their little love nest – the last time he could try to convince himself that everything was more than a lie, more than a dark plan, more than pretence.

The last time he could believe that their love was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments & kudos are highly appreciated as always, my dears!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! ♥


	4. Chapter 4

(((Cain)))

 

The space shuttle shook a little under him, engines starting up with a silent, yet powerful roar. Some fighters sat beside and front of him; injured, broken, discharged. Most of them sank into proud silence, staring at their tablet or closing their tired eyes, waiting for the shuttle to depart.

One of them had only one arm, huge bandage on the remains of the other. Half of his face on his injured side was covered with bandages too. Probably burnt, judging from the missing hair.  There was a navigator sitting beside him, skinny but muscular, with soft looking curly hair curtaining his feminine, determined face. They were holding hands in the open, not giving a damn about regulations or others anymore. Cain looked at them for too long, until the blond man caught his eyes and so he turned away, embarrassed and sad. He felt a stabbing pain in his chest again, just like the one he felt when he watched Abel lying on the narrow bed in medical unconscious for weeks. But this pain was even worse than that. All the things he secretly feared became harsh reality. He took a sneaky look at the navigator again who now leant his head on his fighter’s shoulder after pressing a small kiss to it through the dark grey fabric. His throat suddenly felt tight and he turned away, decided to look stupidly at his thighs instead.

They could have been the same, he thought. Abel and him, they could have sat just like them, arm in arm, kissing openly cause he wouldn’t give a single fuck about what others think anymore. And Abel would lean his head on his shoulder just like that too, and he could feel the scent of his soft hair, his thin body pressed against him, delicate fingers sliding through his owns and squeezing gently.

_“I don’t know if I want this anymore… I don’t know if I can trust you ever again. Maybe… maybe it’s better if we just part ways for now.”_

The words echoed in his head again and again, the painful words Abel threw at him when he asked him to come home with him to the colonies. He wanted to promise him the world, to prove him that he could trust him, that he only wanted him to be happy. He wanted to tell him that he would protect him forever, that he needed him, and that he never felt anything like this with anyone before. Tell him that Abel was his whole world and he loved him maybe; loved him maybe more than he could express it with his silly ways. But Cain was never a man of words, so he just clumsily blurted out the question if Abel wanted to go with him or not, after weeks of rare visits in the medical and no sex or any sign of affection after their last lustful lovemaking on that quiet morning.

He knew he fucked up for good this time. No turning back, no second chances.

He lost Abel forever.

 

They were on their way for a long time when he fished his tablet out from his small travel bag and switched it on. He entered the simple opening code and slid the screen to the gallery, hesitating for a moment before putting his headphones on hastily and pressing play on the first video of a long playlist.

The screen went dark for a second and then the video started. Abel was sitting cross-legged on their mattresses on the floor with his computer, blushing prettily and smiling shyly when he noticed the camera, looking straight into it for a second before shifting his eyes above it.

“Come on Cain… I’m in my underwear, stop it.” he mumbled with a small laugh, and Cain found himself smiling.

“Even better.”  Video-Cain exclaimed with a low chuckle, camera shaking lightly. “Show us something sexy, princess.”

“No way! Put it down!”

“Nope. Show something.”

“Cain, please…” Abel sighed with resignation, blushing even deeper as he continued. “You can film me later, but I need to finish this. Okay?”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

“I got video proof you know. Everyone, Abel just promised to have sex on film, I got proof!” stated Cain in the video proudly with a sneaky laugh. Abel’s face dropped before the film cut off, and Cain slid to the next one, needing to see Abel all giggly and smiling and blushing, even if it hurt like hell cause it would never happen again.

Video-Cain came up close as the next film started, his face focusing on setting the camera straight up on one of the rods that held their bunk beds before they decided to throw the mattresses to the ground and get rid of the other rods. When the screen went steady, he slowly moved away and disappeared for a minute, revealing Abel sitting on the bed behind him, hunched in front of his computer screen again, lost deep in his thoughts, fingers typing idly. Video-Cain returned suddenly, crawling behind Abel and reaching to push down the screen. The navigator twisted to look at him, a surprised look on his face as he saw Cain getting his long legs and arms around him, trapping him in place.

“I was working on that you know!” he exclaimed sounding a bit angry, but he didn’t move away when Cain kissed his naked shoulders, pushing the light fabric of Abel’s singlet aside with his nose.

“Come on babe, I know you have it on autosave all the time.” He mumbled as he kept pressing soft, open mouthed kisses along Abel’s shoulder, up his slender neck and delicate jaw, and the blond tipped his head back with a trembling sigh, grabbing onto Cain’s muscular arms; the contrast of their skin tones striking, yet beautiful in the dim light.

“I wanted to finish it….” Abel exhaled, but closed his eyes in surrender. He lifted one of his hands to dig his fingers into Cain’s hair as the fighter did the same, aligning their faces to kiss, and Abel let him.  
They kissed slowly, soft, small pecks only at first, their mouths growing hungrier and their kisses turning deeper with every passing second.

Abel broke apart suddenly, whispering in a low voice and giggling between small kisses.

“Wait… I want to turn around.”

He lifted so he could face Cain, but froze in the middle of the movement, his eyes landing on the camera suddenly.

“Are you filming? Seriously?” came the angry question, and Cain in the present smiled to himself. He just loved when Abel was pouty and embarrassed.

He closed the video and decided to save the rest of them for later, for moments when he would lie in bed alone and horny, missing Abel.

He flipped through some of the pictures instead; he took a whole bunch of them through their time together, way more than he could admit without embarrassing himself. He never realized why he made them, always thought he just loved making Abel blush, and also photos were a good way to pass his boring moments on the ship. But looking through them now, he was sad and happy at the same time, having so much memories of the beautiful face that would probably haunt him forever.

Abel in the mess hall, stealing his food; Abel in their bed, sweaty and smiling after sex; Abel in front of the Reliant in his singlet and big gloves, covered in oil; Abel in Cain’s flight suit in their bunk, making a funny pose; Abel and himself, kissing with their eyes closed, holding the camera in a weird angle; Abel’s face scrunched up prettily and laughing while Cain licked his face like a dog; Abel looking up at him, blushing and shy from under the covers, naked and sleepy, eyes glowing happily and hands reaching up at Cain standing above him with the camera. Abel, Abel, Abel, hundreds of pictures of Abel.

He tapped on the screen and set one smiling Abel his background and a sleeping one as his lockscreen before he slid the tablet back to his bag and leant his head back, pretending to be asleep for the rest of the flight, only to avoid looking at the pale little navigator hugging his fighter close, reminding him of Abel and his missed chance for happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapters are so short, I'm sorry!  
> \+ This one is quite silly, but I just love to imagine the photos and videos these two must've made. :3 
> 
> Thank you for reading again! I love you guys! <33


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update! Sorry for those who waited for this; some sad things happened in my personal life in the past months, and so I lost my motivation for a while. But here I am again, bringing a small chapter of feels! Enjoy!
> 
> PS: I added some new tags, please be sure to check them out. I forgot to add them earlier, sorry.

((Abel))

 

He looked around the white, sterile room with a heavy heart. It was a little bigger than his bunk on the space station, but the empty walls made it feel just as unfriendly and alien as the cold metal coffin that served as his bedroom among the stars. The narrow bed he was lying in didn’t offer much comfort either; the crisp white bedsheets smelt like disinfectants and felt cold even with the worn out itchy, brown wool blanket thrown on top. The pillow was lumpy and hard no matter how he arranged it, so he decided to ditch it and replace it with one of his rolled-up sweaters. Being this uncomfortable only added to his growing insomnia. He took a silent glance at the bed on the other side of the room, where Keeler seemingly slept peacefully. His former commanding officer was facing the wall so Abel couldn’t see his face, only his skinny body hiding underneath the rigid blankets.

Keeler woke up from the coma not long before they were sent back to Earth to this rehabilitation hospital with some other injured soldiers. Part of him thought he should be grateful for moving in with someone familiar instead of a stranger, but another part of him wished for anyone else but Keeler. He trusted and admired him up in space, but now that his part in the Shady Plan came to surface, his trust was broken and his admiration fading away.

He turned back to the ceiling and watched the shadows dancing in the reflecting moonlight. His chest felt empty and aching, and he was on the edge of crying again. He missed Cain: missed his warmth, his strong arms around him, his hot breath in his hair, his scent, his reassuring presence, everything about him. He knew he should be happy to be away from such a cheater and liar as Cain, but he just couldn’t command his heart. Hot tears started to gather in his eyes, and he could swear that his chest was crumbling under the weight of his sadness and loneliness. He took a deep breath and pressed his fingers into his aching eyes, but the shaking in his body only grew and grew, until it was released in a quiet sob.

_You shouldn’t miss him. It’s better this way._

He kept repeating these two sentences in himself, but his feelings broke down on him once again, as it happened on so many nights before. If Keeler was ever awake to hear his muffled crying, he never showed any sign of it.

How could it be better this way, after all? He seemed to lose the hopeful brave soldier he was when he enlisted; the boy full of determination, dreams and loyalty to his home planet and army was slowly fading away, along with the promise of a bright future and a successful military career. He lost his enthusiasm, his blind allegiance and his faith in love, all at once. His whole life was collapsing and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

What was his future offering to him really? He was imprisoned in this so-called hospital to recover from his invisible wounds, with no prospect of returning to active duty ever. His days were all dull and grey, a never-ending killing circle of rehabilitation sessions and examinations and his constant fight with his ever-present splitting headache and his disobedient muscles.

The doctors on the spaceship and later at the station explained his condition to him briefly, but he only truly understood the meaning of their words as time passed and his symptoms got worse. They told him that the trial usage of the Colteron device apparently left him with some permanent brain damage which they didn’t know the exact extent and nature of yet. They reassured him that he could still live a full, happy life, but admitted that his ability to navigate a starfighter was probably lost forever. They said they couldn’t possibly know yet all the effects he would experience because of the damage, but tried to convince him that they would do everything for him at the rehabilitation centre once he would be on Earth and that they would provide a special care for him. But Abel was not stupid. Even though he knew he should be happy about the unique treatment and attention he received, they couldn’t fool him; he knew they only took extra care for him to study the effects of the Colteron device on the first person who used it. And that first person happened to be him.

The early signs of the damage already appeared on the Sleipnir after he woke up, but both him and the medical stuff considered it an after-effect of the coma and the shock from the battle. He struggled with extreme migraines, often becoming sick and throwing up because of them, feeling weak and lightheaded most times. As opposed to their initial beliefs, the headaches did not go away, but instead got stronger with the pass of time, and on many days Abel didn’t want anything but to stay in bed and sleep through his misery. They let him do it most of the times, escorting him back to his room and helping him to a dose of the brutal painkillers that kicked in quickly and made him pass out in a minute.

They found out the second effect of the damage around the time they reached the space station. Abel noticed them sooner than the doctors, and was very unhappy about them noticing it too. He tried to hide it for weeks, hoping that he could keep his position as a navigator. Even if not on Cain’s side anymore, even after everything that happened, he still wanted to stay on active duty, to navigate, to fight. To protect everyone.

But eventually the doctors noticed it and so there was a new reason to list in his discharge letter: the terrible, painful cramps in his hands and arms that appeared more and more often. The space station had a better equipped medical facility than the Sleipnir, so new examinations and new medical reports came. It turned out that the device caused a slight damage to the motor nerves too, and this made him even more incapable of navigating. They said they couldn’t do anything but hope that the physiotherapy would make a difference.

According to his Earth-therapist, Dr. Stein, it definitely did make a difference and Abel got better with every week. The boy never replied and never believed her, just sulked quietly in himself, not seeing any improvement to his uncontrollable spasms of movements. They started the therapy with simple things and exercises:  stretching and massaging the muscles, putting paperclips into a box, building small towers from wooden cubes and playing with a small ball. He had to hold a bigger ball sometimes, with his arms stretched in front of himself, stretched above his head, stretched to the sides. Most times the exercises came to a disappointing end, Abel’s muscles convulsing painfully, his whole arm cramping, his neck and back tensing up in an excruciating way.  Part of him wanted to give up and hide somewhere, but part of him wanted to prove himself strong and getting better.

A group of scientists came to see him in every two weeks, monitoring and recording his condition and rehabilitation, searching for any information that could surface about the usage of the Colteron device. Abel hated it, felt humiliated and angry and fooled, hated to be their lab rat, but still said he understood, that he was happy to help.

But he was not happy, not happy at all. Sometimes he found himself crying helplessly in his spare lonely minutes in the shower, hitting the walls until his hands ached and wanting his old life back. Wanting his health back, his career back, his lover back. Sometimes he felt like killing Cook and Bering both, punishing Encke and Keeler and hating Cain; but in the end he just collapsed on the wet tiles exhausted, went back to his cold bed and braced himself for another sleepless night and another dull, painful day in the morning. There was no way to change things back, and with his last pieces of will, he decided to be useful at least and provide all the medical data the army needed from him, even if this meant him losing his smiles and happy hopes forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a longer one and a bit of a surprise, so brace yourselves! ;)
> 
> Thank you for reading my story darlings! I really do appreciate every comment & kudos. Love you guys! ♡


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After more than half a year of neglecting this story, here I am with a new chapter! I'm really sorry for this long break; I hope I can make it up to you guys in the future. :)

((Keeler))

He sat on a secluded bench in the large garden and watched the fat snowflakes slowly covering the scenery around him. He didn’t really look at his surroundings, just stared blankly in front of him, unmoving. He didn’t even flinch when a big shadow cast over him, followed slowly by a tall figure sitting down next to him. He could feel the touch of a strong, familiar arm around his shoulders, embracing him carefully, caressing him softly. He didn’t even blink.

“They told me I’ll find you here. Aren’t you cold?” The man waited a minute for the answer, but continued when he didn’t receive any. “Keeler, hey, it’s me… Encke. Let’s go back inside. It’s freezing cold.”

Keeler slowly turned his head towards his former Fighter, his eyes taking a while to get him in focus.

“Encke…” he breathed softly, as if he was still daydreaming. He let his eyes linger on the familiar features for long seconds before returning his gaze to the falling snowflakes. “You should be up in space.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda requested an early leave to see you.” Encke chuckled, rubbing Keeler’s arms reassuringly. The warmth of it felt good under the loose knitted cardigan he was wearing; he only now started to realize how frozen his skin was. He must have sat there for a long time, though he couldn’t remember how long exactly. He tended to lose track of time lately.

“Damn, you’re freezing, darling. Why didn’t you put on a coat or something?”

“I… forgot, I guess…” Keeler frowned, as if thinking deeply. “Forgot it’s already winter, I guess…”

The bigger man stared at him with eyes full of worry, but didn’t ask anything else. Instead, he sighed in resignation and stood up, pulling Keeler up with him too.

“Let’s go baby, okay? Come with me, please.”

Keeler thought about asking where they were going, but realized he didn’t really care for the answer, so he decided against it. Anywhere was the same, here or elsewhere, with Encke or without him. It didn’t make a difference. Encke, the doctors or the army officers, they all told him where to go, what to do and where to sign, and he did it all, without questions. Nothing really mattered anymore anyway.

Thus, Keeler let his strong companion gather him up and cover him with his coat as he escorted him to the hospital building. The snow slowly covered the black and green of the fields around them, painting everything white and calming. White like navigator uniforms. White like neat navigator work stations in the control rooms. White like his long hair that fell loose and tangled on his shoulders. He liked white a lot.

 

Once inside, Encke guided him to the cafeteria and sat him down in a cozy armchair by the large windows. He left his coat wrapped around him, and told him to wait, so he did. He looked around briefly, not really taking in the few doctors and nurses on their coffee breaks or the small groups of visitors with their inmate ones. He didn’t care much about them, so he rather turned back to the window to see all the white growing bolder through the glass. The air smelled sweet and warm, like coffee and cake, but he missed the crisp purity of the cold air outside in the garden.

Encke returned shortly as he promised, putting down a cup of steaming hot tea in front of him. He sat in the opposite armchair with his coffee, and took a big sip before setting down the small mug on the table.

The silence was heavy between them. Encke just watched him and didn’t move or speak, and nor did he.

Finally, after seconds, minutes or hours – Keeler couldn’t tell, he really seemed to lose track of time lately -, the fighter spoke up gently.

“You can’t let go of yourself like this, Keeler. You have to get it together, please. It’s been months, baby, you will have to get over it eventually. You can still come out good from this, you know. Even if not as a navigator, you can still find your place in the Alliance. Please Keeler, look at me at least.”

Keeler did as he was asked, but his face stayed emotionless, his mouth silent. Encke sighed. He seemed annoyed, or disappointed, it was hard to tell.

“Drink your tea, it will warm you up. I brought your favourite.” Keeler didn’t even glance towards the cup. He just stared at Encke for a long minute.

“There is no way to come out good from this, Encke. It’s over. It’s finished. You don’t have to come anymore.”

“Of course I have to!” Encke snapped, visibly trying his best to keep his voice down. “Look, baby, I’m not giving up on you just yet. If there is a way to get you back on active duty, I will find it. But I can’t do this without you. I know you don’t feel well, I know that, but please, believe in me at least. Believe in _us_.”

Keeler shook his head slowly, looking sadly at the steaming cup of tea. He saw Encke’s outreached hand on the table, waiting for him to hold it, but he didn’t make a move.

“I’m sorry, Encke. It’s over. Please… let’s not fight anymore.”

His voice was a mere whisper only and it hurt to talk somehow. He could barely squeeze these small sentences out of him, and he felt tired suddenly. He didn’t feel any strength or motivation left in him. He didn’t even feel the slightest spark of life in him at all really. He was just so endlessly tired of all this, of Encke and his stubborn, regular visits, his nagging and forced positivity; and of Abel with his red, puffy eyes that reminded him of his betrayal every time he looked at the boy. He was tired of this pointless rehabilitation. He just wanted to be sent back home and be left alone for good.

 

 

((Encke))

His visit to Keeler proved to be fruitless again. The ever-growing depression that haunted Keeler since they returned to Earth was making him sick with worry. For the first time in his life, he felt powerless. He couldn’t think of a single thing to do to help him anymore, but he wasn’t ready to give up yet. He loved this man from the bottom of his heart, even if he was too much of a coward to ever tell him.

He still had some time of leave before returning to space, and he was adamant about bringing Keeler back with him. He fought with all his will to get him back, even though he faced walls everywhere he tried to speak for his navigator. Most places they told him that Keeler could be happy not to face a dishonourable discharge from the army for his cheating upon entering. His excellent performance as a navigator and his outstanding capability as a lead navigator were the only things that saved him from being deprived of any small military benefits he got as a discharged veteran. But Encke couldn’t imagine himself with a new navigator, no matter how hard he tried. The strict and objective military views that were instilled in him since birth all failed him, and he couldn’t care less. He was more prepared and ready for facing the humiliation of being kicked out from the army and confront his mother and his whole family than losing Keeler and staying on duty with a newcomer.

He loved Keeler, loved him so much his heart hurt. If he couldn’t get him back to space with him, he was ready to spend his whole life doing whatever crappy job he could find, only to stay with Keeler and to support him in any way he let him. He was ready to sacrifice himself for Keeler, for as long as he needed him. Even if he could never gather the courage to confess his true feelings, he would still be there, close to him, keeping an eye on this angelic beauty that stole his heart and apparently his right mind too.

 

He stopped his steps in front of a large glass window and cautiously peeked through it. He checked on Abel every time he came to see Keeler; he felt responsible for the boy’s troubles and bad fate, even if he knew he had no reason to. He didn’t take part in that Shady Plan, but his heart still felt heavy every time he thought about the poor soldier.

He could see Abel through the window; he was there, sitting by himself. There were tons of colourful paper clips scattered around him on the table, and a small plastic box in front of him. He slowly reached for the clips with his trembling right hand, trying to pick up each of them with jittery fingers. He slowly, so very slowly managed to get one of them up, only to have his hand spasm with a seemingly painful cramp that made him drop the paper clip and send the small box flying down to the ground. Encke couldn’t hear him, yet the boy’s angry and pained cursing was obvious, like in a silent tragicomedy. A nurse ran to him and put reassuring hands on Abel’s shoulders, saying something to him before kneeling down to collect the spilled paper clips. Abel buried his face into his slowly calming hand and didn’t watch as the nurse put the tiny objects away.

“Hello Encke.” The cheerful voice snapped him out from his gloomy observation of the rehab room. He turned to greet the older woman with a polite smile.

“Dr. Stein. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, sir. Came to check up on Abel again, I guess?”

“Yes, ma’am. How is he doing? Please, just honestly.”

The doctor released a deep sigh and adjusted her glasses as she looked at Abel through the thick glass.

“Well… not very good, I’m afraid. His motor reflexes are getting better, but he’s still weak, both in body and mind. Not to mention that even after all this time, new symptoms seem to surface one after the other. Poor boy really doesn’t have it easy… We’ll definitely keep him for a while.”

“What about his eyesight?” He glanced at the big, round, old-fashioned glasses Abel was wearing. The doctor took another deep sigh and shook her head again.

“That’s the worse news. We hoped that the damage to his eyes was only temporary and will get better with time, but his vision only gets worse. If it continues this rate… I’m sad to say, but he might even lose all his sight.”

Encke felt his heart drop. He turned to the doctor with big, unbelieving eyes. “You mean… he’ll go blind?”

“Yes, sir. Hard for me to say, believe me, but you asked for the truth.”

“Does he know about it?”

“No, not yet… We try to keep him as positive as we can. We still couldn’t identify the exact cause of the problem, so we’re hopeful that it can be turned back, even if it’s not temporary. This alien device you guys were using…. It really destroyed this poor fellow.”

“Yeah…. I know. What about Keeler?”

“Ah, him… Sorry Encke, I cannot really say. You should talk to Dr. Lancaster, as always. He is the one to supervise Keeler’s rehabilitation, not me. His problem is more emotional than physical, you know…

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I just thought I’d ask. Can I go in to Abel now?”

The doctor nodded approvingly, so Encke cautiously stepped into the spacious room full of recovering soldiers. He waved at Abel, but he didn’t seem to notice him, so he decided to carefully take a seat at his table.

“Hi Abel. How are you doing?”

Abel was clearly startled as he glanced up at Encke; his big black eyes seemed even bigger through the glasses.

“Thank you, sir, I-I’m… getting better, I guess. I’m just taking a break.”

Encke looked around the room, trying to seem as calm and carefree as he could. The place made him anxious, but he didn’t want Abel to notice it.

“Physiotherapy, eh?” he asked, trying his best to look nonchalant.  “So what’s the next task? Can I help?”

Abel took a minute to reply. It was obvious how embarrassed he felt. Encke’s heart bled for him, seeing his skinny shoulders slightly shaking under the light grey jumper he was wearing. He seemed smaller than he was before; Dr. Stein was right about him having lost too much weight. He looked fragile, broken and lonely just like Keeler, even if their reason to be there was different.

Abel slowly lifted a little red ball from his lap, holding it to Encke with shaky hands.

“You could, um… help me with the ball.”

“All right, what do I do?” He saw the nurse coming towards them, stopping midway as Encke reassured her with a quick nod that they would be fine. “Should I throw it?”

“Yeah, just… small throws. I will stand.”

He stood up quavering and walked some steps away, getting his skinny hands in front of him to catch the ball. Encke stood up too; he felt silly sitting there and watching the boy struggle. It was clearly hard for Abel to catch and then to throw back the ball, his muscles obviously disagreeing with every small movement. Encke had to step closer to catch the ball that flew lazily back to him, Abel’s throws being weak and unaimed.

“I guess you spoke to Keeler?” Abel asked after a few minutes of awkward silence.

“Yeah, I did. He still wasn’t very talkative. I guess he doesn’t talk to you either.”

“No, he doesn’t.” The ball hit the ground, making Abel embarrassed and nervous. Encke picked it up and threw it to him again, gently. “Even when he does, it’s only small talk or him repeating how he’s sorry for what he did to me. I told him many times that I forgive him, but he still keeps repeating it.”

“I’m sorry. It must be hard to put up with him.”

“No, it’s OK. It’s not hard, not really.” His hands got jittery and spasming again, so he took a minute trying to ease the stiff muscles, wincing with annoyance. “Lately I prefer silence anyway. You know, the… the migraines.”

Encke smiled and nodded sympathetically. He felt useless in this conversation. He really cared about Abel, but he just couldn’t find the words to say. Telling him everything would be all right seemed futile and annoying, so he tried hard to come up with something other than health to talk to about. His mind went blank, but luckily Abel broke the silence before him.

“Sir, I was wondering if… if you knew anything about... about Cain? Maybe?”

Encke felt a slowly growing fury sparkling to life in his soul at the mention of Cain’s name. He could never understand how could someone betray his navigator like that – especially not if the rumours about the nature of their relationship were true. When he found out about the Shady Plan, Encke tried to come up with excuses for Cain, tried to find something that could make him feel sorry for the young colonial, but he couldn’t. No matter the orders, he could never hurt his partner. He truly tried to understand the younger fighter, but he couldn’t. He hated him.

“Not much. Why asking?”

“Nothing special. I was just wondering.”

“You shouldn’t worry about him, kid.” Encke tried to hide the bitter taste of his words upon mentioning Cain. “He got away with a fat dismissal pay and a comfy ride back to the colonies. You better worry about yourself first.”

“Yes, right… You’re right. Thank you.”

They didn’t talk much after that. The nurse soon came over to excuse Abel for having a new exercise to do. Encke got the message and said his goodbyes, feeling guilty over the relief he felt when leaving the room. He promised to come back next week, and even though he really wanted to promise to check up on Cain too, he couldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, end of long chapter!  
> For this long chapter, please allow me to write a longer note here.
> 
> Firstly, sorry if I messed up any medical terms or anything related to Abel's many health issues. I took the advantage of the freedom caused by the Colteron device being alien and a thing of fantasy - at this point of the comic, we really don't know what effects it will have on poor guy, so I let my imagination loose with the symptoms. I did quite a lot of research about the issues I'm describing, but of course, I'm still not a doctor, so I might have wrote silly things. Please blame them on the Colteron thingie! :D
> 
> Secondly, one of my favourite TV series inspired me a lot when describing the spasticity of Abel's muscles. In the first episode of Queer as Folk US's second season, there are some scenes where they show one of the boys with the same symptoms. I used those scenes as references when writing about Abel's painful muscles and rehabilitation exercises. Just a little trivia for you guys. ;) (Also, I REALLY recommend that series, it's the best ever.)
> 
> I promise I'll try to be faster with the next chapter!
> 
> Thank you for the kudos & comments, they mean a lot to me. ♡


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but here it goes. (￣ ﹌ ￣)  
> Hope you guys will like it!

(((ABEL)))

White. Everything was white around him once again, like in the navigators’ control room or in the hospital. The fat snowflakes slowly flew around him, landing silently to add to the thick white coldness that covered everything. His feet felt frozen in his thin boots, his hands already reddened and hurt without gloves to keep them warm. He desperately tried to pull his jacket a bit tighter around him, to bury his face deeper into his loose knit scarf, but nothing helped. He scolded himself internally for being so unprepared, for having ran away in such a hurried, stupid way.

The train platform where he stood was mostly empty – it was way too early for a crowd, and the small city he was heading to wasn’t among the top tourist places to visit. Even the few commuters travelled in the opposite direction, going to the bigger cities in the area. It was only him, the snow, and a cheerless old man with his cigarettes and vodka, who didn’t give a damn about him.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of waiting and freezing to death, he could hear an old-fashioned train whistling in the distance. His heart jumped in his chest. The icy weather and his desperate situation didn’t seem all that important at the sight of the train; his excitedly trembling thoughts only focused on the prosperity of reaching his goal.

The train got closer, and he tried to clean his ridiculously big glasses so that he could read the sign of the vehicle’s destination. Cyrillic letters again. He couldn’t read them.

He quickly ran to the conductor peeking out from one of the doors. There wasn’t much chance that the man understood English, but asking him was his only chance.

“Excuse me, is this going to New Volga?”

The man lazily looked at him, and replied without removing his pipe from the grip of his teeth.

“да, К новой Волге.”

да. He understood that much. да meant yes, and hopefully there weren’t many other cities around with the word ‘Volga’ in them, so Ethan quickly nodded and climbed onto the train, the conductor shutting the door behind him immediately.

The air inside the car was heavy and musty. The warmth was very much welcomed, the smell not so much. Stepping further inside, Ethan’s jaw dropped. He only saw that kind of train in old movies and pictures. No monitors or electronic devices around, no fashionable cold colours; only brown, worn out seats, neatly arranged by six in separate cabins. Ethan cautiously peeked into one of them, seeing the old drunkard from the station, already getting comfortable with his smokes and drink. There was a couple heavily making out in another one, but the rest of them were peacefully empty. He entered a cabin near the end of the car and sat beside the window. He put his small bag beside him, and stared out at the slowly rising Sun, colouring the snowy fields in a warm tone of pale yellow.

His heart beat in his throat, and he felt stupid and a bit scared suddenly. Maybe going there was a terrible idea after all. Maybe it was still not too late to change his mind, to go back to the safety of Earth, to continue with his medical treatment, to hope for the best and forget about this lunatic idea that was never supposed to set in motion.

But then he remembered that horrible day when his already doomed life turned even darker, when the small glimpse of hope turned even smaller and when he decided to give up completely.

He remembered Dr. Stein’s stern and regretful face when she sat him down in her office, telling him about some recent discoveries regarding his condition survey and the impact of the damage caused by the Colteron device. Her gloomy face promised no good.

“We were all hoping with all our heart that this conversation will never happen, but what we feared the most seems to become reality. Ethan…” she took a deep breath, and looked at him with all the empathy she could muster up over her professional sternness. “At this point, it seems that you will lose your eyesight completely. I’m terribly sorry.”

The rest of her words got lost in the fogginess of his memory, but this one sentence he could still remember clearly.

_“You will lose your eyesight completely.”_

The snowy fields running outside the train window got blurry as bitter tears filled Ethan’s eyes. He took off his round glasses and rubbed his eyes hard. His chest was heaving painfully as he thought of his full diagnosis that turned darker with every passing day in the hospital.

His unruly muscles, the suddenly attacking nauseating headache, the panic attacks, the shrieking ringing in his ears that made him terrified and sick, and now gradually becoming blind – he could all endure them until there was the faintest hope of him returning to navigating once again. To hell with navigating, he would have been happy to return to normal life even. But the moment the doctors told him that apparently there was nothing they could do to help him or stop his condition from worsening, he felt all his willpower to fight vanish.

He was dying slowly, in body and mind, but there was one last thing he wanted to do before he lost himself completely. And so there he was, on an uninviting train on a planet he didn’t know, going to an unknown town to look for someone that maybe wasn’t there at all.

He closed his eyes and took deep breaths to calm himself. Even if his crazy plan failed, he could surrender himself to slow decaying knowing he tried his best to see him one last time.

He could have gone home as the doctor’s suggested, trying to find peace and relaxation in a safe environment, surrounded by his mother’s welcoming care; but instead he chose to escape, to run away like a sulking teenager. He even surprised himself with his irresponsible behaviour, but during the days waiting for his official discharge documents, both from the military and from the hospital, waiting for being transferred into his luxurious prison they called home, there was only one person Ethan wanted to see. It was his arms he wanted to return to, even if for one night only. His fury, his disappointment, his heartbreak, all of them seemed insignificant when facing slow death. Even if the man would send him away, even if his visit would be futile, he still had to try.

He had to see Cain for one last time.

Fear of rejection twisted his stomach into a painful knot. What if the teary reunion he pictured would never happen? What if Cain would laugh him in the face and send him away cruelly? Would he be happy to have tried, even in the worst-case scenario?

But then, Ethan remember his fighter’s desperate eyes when he asked him to go back to Mars with him. When he asked him to stay by his side, and it was Ethan who refused him coldly. But… it was the rightful decision then, wasn’t it? Of course, he couldn’t trust Cain in that moment. He must have understood.

But then again, Cain was so handsome, he surely wasn’t alone anymore… though what if he was? What if he missed Ethan as much as he missed him?

Doubts and hopes like these were all that filled Ethan’s mind during the long train ride. Anxiety and fear of being robbed kept him awake; excruciating minutes debating with himself, convincing himself that this was the right step to make, that even being rejected by Cain was better than never seeing him with his own eyes again.

 

(((CAIN)))

As Alexei stepped into the steamy, seedy bar, his ears got filled with drunk shouting and laughing; the loud Russian immigrants of Mars blowing off some steam after the monotone workday in the factories. He greeted some friends and co-workers on his way to the counter, where he collapsed in one of the high stools and dropped his bag to the ground beside him. He threw his gloves and hat in front of him, rubbing his oil-stained hands together to warm them up. A tall, black haired woman greeted him with a big smile from the other side of the counter, placing a shot of vodka in front of him.

“Little brother, welcome! Have a drink to warm up. How was work?”

“How could it be? Shitty.” His voice was weary and bored. He didn’t feel like chatting, he never did, and he didn’t know why Anna still bothered trying. He wouldn’t even come to the bar, if it wasn’t for the lift home. _Home_ – her sister’s house wasn’t exactly what he could call home, but it was the place where he crashed for the past year. “Only until I find something for myself”, he said back then, but he never managed to move out. He didn’t earn shit in the factory, and giving some rent money for the bills for Anna was still cheaper than living by himself or sharing a flat with other factory workers. Anna didn’t mind, most of the time – he meant a bit of extra money for the household and a free babysitter when it was needed. They didn’t use the small back room he lived in anyway.

“How come you’re both here? Who’s with Olga?” he asked after a while, seeing both his sister and her husband behind the counter.

“She is sleeping at her friend’s place. You know, little Lydia’s.”

“Ah, yeah... right.”

“You should take another shot.” Anna said, placing a next shot of vodka in front of him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Yeah… definitely need that.” he snorted, reaching for the glass. “You wanna hook me up with someone again? Told you, give up. Not interested.”

Anna shook her head.

“No. Someone is here, looking for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“From the factory?”

“Nah.”

They stared at each other for a long, silent moment, and Alexei suddenly became irritated as hell. He had a shitty fucking day, he had to stay overtime, his superior was chewing his ass and instead of helping, his co-workers just left him with even more extra work than he already had. He just wanted to get back to his gloomy little room, get drunk, jerk off and sleep. Every fucking day the same fucking bad, and now even Anna got on his nerves.

“Come on, spit it out woman, I’m in no mood for your fucking games. Just come out with it or leave me the fuck alone.”

Anna stared at him for another long moment, her expression suddenly somewhat thoughtful and sad. She nodded in the direction of one of the dimly lit corner booths.

“He’s there.”

“Who the fuck is there, Anna? Told you to quit this shit.”

“You better see it for yourself. Asshole.”

And with that, she turned away to serve another customer, leaving Alexei fuming alone. He downed his vodka shot and turned towards the booth, the last in the row. The tall back of the seat hid the person behind it, so Alexei had no chance of finding out who was there and getting prepared for the irksome meeting. He really hoped it wasn’t some military asshole nagging him to enlist again, or another pretty thing Anna tried to hook him up with. He started for the booth with heavy steps, bracing himself for the worst.

“Hey, you!” he snarled at the small, hooded figure. “Heard you were looking for me.”

The figure jolted, then went still. Alexei cursed inwardly upon seeing the white Alliance coat the man was wearing - another nuisance sent from the military. Lately those ignorant jerks up in command thought that sending pretty faced Earth cuties could convince him more to enlist again then sending fighters. When long seconds passed without a reply, Alexei took a step closer, trying to see the stranger’s face, but the figure was facing the wall, unmoving.

“Hey, dickhead! I was talking to you, dammit.” He raised his voice angrily, but the man still didn’t talk or move. Alexei was about to lose his grip on the last sliver of patience he had left. “All right motherfucker, you either speak up or get the fuck out. Have no time or need for weirdos.”

At that, the small figure flinched, and slowly turned towards Alexei. He adjusted the hood covering his face to peek out from underneath it, hands shaking badly.

Alexei felt his heart stopping in his chest.

_Abel_.

He had to blink twice and shake his head to make sure he wasn’t in one of his sweet dreams, but when he opened his eyes again, Abel was still there. He looked up at him with the most beautiful eyes he ever saw; big, dark eyes filling with tears slowly, trembling smile being covered with those long, pale fingers he adored so much.

“Abel…” The raspy whisper was his, but he didn’t remember speaking. His blond navigator just sat there, trembling with tears, tearing his gaze away and looking at his hands fumbling under the table.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” Abel breathed, barely audible. Alexei looked back at Anna, who was smiling at him encouragingly. He looked around hastily, then back at Abel, who still had his head hanging.

“Come on. Come!” He snarled at him, sounding much meaner than he intended. The little blonde looked up at him with fear in his eyes, but stood up and stumbled out from the booth anyway. Alexei grabbed him by the arm and roughly dragged him through a door close to the counter, leading him through a storage room and towards a back door which opened into a dark, empty alley, where it was silent and abandoned, and where the drunken razzle was only a distant sound coming from the other side of the building.

They stood there, facing each other, staring at each other for a long time; Alexei breathing heavily, Abel crying silently. The smaller man was shaking badly, taking a hesitant step towards the ex-fighter. He was so close, yet Alexei felt dumbstruck.

“Cain…” Abel whispered in a small voice, choking on a sob, reaching up his jittery hand to touch him, but too afraid to make that small contact. Alexei felt his chest tighten and burn with the anticipation of that soft touch, but he just stood there as some cold fucker, staring at Abel with an intense gaze that must have seem more menacing than inviting, and Abel slowly lowered his hand and took a step back.

Seeing the resignation in that simple movement, seeing Abel so fragile and broken shook him out of his stupor. Something broke in him.

“Fuck…” He exhaled as he harshly grabbed Abel’s hand, yanking his smaller body against his. “Fuck it, fuck it, Abel…”

“Cain!” Abel sobbed into his shoulder. They held onto each other desperately, as if it was the first and last moment of them being together, as if they could be torn apart at any minute. He felt Abel’s bony hands clutching the thermo shirt on his back, crying heavily, and he stroked his blond locks soothingly.

They stood like this for what seemed like eternity, with the snow falling around them lazily, covering them in white wetness. Everything ceased around them; nothing else existed but the warmth of their embrace.

After a while, when the freezing cold started to become too much and he felt Abel shivering in his arms, Alexei pushed his former navigator away slowly, reluctantly.

“Don’t cry, you silly thing. You came all this way to soak my shirt, or what?” He laughed a little, and Abel laughed a little too. He only noticed the big, round glasses on the blond when he reached out to wipe the tears from his eyes, smearing away the small droplets before they froze to his pretty face. Abel took the glasses off embarrassedly and let his ex-fighter wipe at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. Alexei caught himself stroking his silky skin with the back of his fingers, cupping his face with both hands, lifting it to look at him properly, observing him closely. Fuck, he wanted to kiss him. Wanted to kiss him so fucking badly, the way he wanted to do so in his shameful fantasies, where Abel forgave him and he kissed him senseless and made him his again, and everything was back to the way it should’ve been.

He tentatively brushed his thumb against the faint scar on Abel’s upper lip, caressing his trembling mouth, asking permission in his clumsy ways. Abel closing his eyes expectantly was the only sign he needed. He crashed his lips against Abel’s, who returned the kiss with a relieved moan into his open mouth, his arms flying around Alexei’s neck, his body pressing against him in a familiar way. The kiss wasn’t romantic, wasn’t pretty – it was sloppy and messy, hungry and devouring, but damn, it was the most perfect kiss in the entire universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'm very happy to hear your thoughts in the comments below! Your feedback is important to me. ♡  
> Thank you for staying with me and reading this! ♡♡♡


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself to post this chapter sooner, but I admit I had a really tough time with this one; also it got pretty long!  
> Thank you for your patience darlings~

(((CAIN)))

If he was dreaming, he definitely didn’t want to wake up.

Abel’s lips were perfect and warm against his; light, innocent pecks followed by long, deep kisses in a seemingly endless cycle. He held his navigator tightly in his arms, pulling him as close as possible, desperately wanting to cup his face or let his hands wonder to his sweet ass, but being stupidly afraid to let him go even for a second. He felt Abel’s slender fingers roaming in his snow-covered hair, gently caressing along the strong line of his jaw, sneaking into the warmth of their chests, and _fuck_ , it felt heavenly.

His heart almost stopped when Abel suddenly pulled away, wincing loudly in pain. He stepped away from Alexei and covered his mouth with one of his reddened hands, the other clutching his head in agony.

“Fuck, did I bite too hard? Shit, sorry, I’m so sorry… Hey, look at me, lemme see.”

Feeling scared and guilty, he tried to force the smaller man to look up at him, but failed. Abel pushed him away with a jittery hand, still covering his mouth, and then just stood there, breathing heavily, not moving.

 _Freaking great, Alexei_. _That’s how you fuck things up, congratulations, you barely got him back._

“Abel, shit, is it this bad? I didn’t mean it this time, come on, show me.”

It took the blond an excruciatingly long minute to look up finally, his hands grabbing at Cain’s chest for support as he slightly swayed.

“It’s ok, it’s just… a sudden headache, I’m sorry.”

Cain let out a half snort, half sigh in relief, but he cupped Abel’s face in both hands to examine his lips anyway. They were swollen and red, but not bruised. The little scar he gave him back in space burned white as Abel smiled a little. His dark eyes were teary as he looked at Alexei, his gaze a strange mix of adoration and fear. Alexei caressed the small mark fondly, and felt stupidly happy somehow. He leaned in for a quick kiss.

“No wonder, you seem dead tired. Jumping planets is never easy.” He threw an arm over Abel’s skinny shoulder, and led him back towards the building. “Come on, let’s get you a drink before your pretty ass freezes solid.”

 

Abel was shaking badly as he escorted him back to the booth where he first found him. The blond nearly collapsed onto the ripped fake-leather seat, pulling his white jacket tightly around himself. Alexei leaned on the table and gently caressed his reddened face to catch his attention.

“Hey, you hungry?”

“N…No.” Abel tried to smile up at him, but his voice was a bare whisper and he seemed close to puking.

“You sure? You look pale as fuck.”

“Yeah… yeah, sure. Thanks.”

“I bring you a hot drink then, okay? You just stay here, I’ll be back in a sec.”

Without even waiting for an answer, he turned away and quickly made his way to the counter, where Anna smiled at him excitedly.

“Well, is it him? It’s him, right?”

“Yeah, it’s him. You could’ve fucking told me.”

“Come on, it wouldn’t have been any fun.” She put down the beer mug she was wiping and turned back to Alexei, putting both her hands on the counter to lean closer to her brother. “I wasn’t even sure it was him. I mean, you barely show us any pictures and these Earthians all look so alike.”

“Make him a tea, would you? Black. Some sugar too.”

“Ready in a minute.”

She turned away to get the drink ready, and Alexei lit a cigarette with trembling hands. He inhaled the bitter smoke deeply, blew it out in a rush and took another two long puffs. Anna looked at him disapprovingly as she returned, getting a transparent tea cup ready.

“You know we don’t like smoking in here.”

“Yeah, I fucking know, and you could make a fucking exception.”

“Wow, rude. Someone’s nervous.”

Alexei took a quick glance at Abel, then lit a second smoke. He rubbed at his face with his other hand, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“Fuck, what the hell is he doing here…” He muttered to himself, then looked up at Anna with desperate eyes. “How did he even find me? Did he say anything?”

“Not much. He walked in here, shaking like a leaf, and asked me if I knew a man named Alexei. He showed a picture too. Poor thing looked close to tears and nearly fainted when I told him that I know you and you’ll surely show up tonight. That’s when I remembered him, you know, from the photos you keep hiding. That lip scar and those dark eyes, that’s how I recognized him.”

“Didn’t he say what he wants? Or anything else?”

“Nah, sorry. He didn’t look too well so I offered him a drink and allowed him to wait for you. Could barely keep those perverts away from him. These pigs have a thing for Earth-blondies, no matter what they got between their legs…”

Alexei shook his head and was about to light his third cigarette when Anna nearly smashed the cup of tea in front of him, sneaking away the smoke from his shaky fingers.

“Two in a row were more than enough little brother. Here, take it to him.”

He snarled at her and started back to the booth with the drink. Some coworkers invited him loudly to their table, but he rejected them with a hurried wave and a grin as he walked past them.

 

Abel was sitting where he left him, his eyes closed, breathing quickly. Alexei gently pushed the drink in front of him, sliding in the booth on the opposite site. The navigator popped his eyes open at the soft clinking of the glass on the table, looking from Cain to the tea cup and back.

“Drink up, princess. You still drink tea, don’t you? Bought you sugar too, I mean… if you still drink it the way you used to.”

Abel gave a short, quiet laugh and pulled the sugar container closer to him. He took his glasses out from his front pocket, and cleaned it some before putting them on.

“I never thought you’d remember.” He risked another smile at Alexei as he poured some spoonful of sugar into his drink. The dark-haired man just snorted.

“Of course I remember.”

They exchanged a quick, somewhat embarrassed glance. Abel busied himself with stirring his drink, while Alexei fished out another cigarette from the crumpled box that surfaced from the pocket of his jacket.

“You mind if I…?”

“No, no! Go on.”

“Thanks.” He tried to mask the way his hands still trembled nervously and hoped that a little bit more nicotine would finally calm his raging nerves. He blew out the first puff of smoke lazily, aiming towards the ceiling cause he knew Abel didn’t like the smell. He watched his former navigator intently, his jaws set tightly and pulse still somewhat racing. The blond just sipped his tea in silence, obviously avoiding the eye contact.

“So... Will you tell me why are you here?” Alexei broke the silence after some long minutes of insufferable awkwardness. “Who gave you my address?”

Abel jumped a little at the question. He looked up at his ex-fighter with flushed cheeks.

“I… I didn’t… I mean, nobody did. I just…” He looked so confused and embarrassed, Alexei almost felt sorry for him. “I just… really… Just wanted to see you, and I remembered you said you’re from New Volga, so I thought… I thought, I take my chances.”

Alexei couldn’t surpass a small laugh. He stared at Abel in disbelief.

“Hah… don’t tell me you really came here based only on that.”

“Well, I did.”

Alexei snorted. God, this was so typical of Abel; getting his pretty head around something and going through with it, no matter the risks. He fucking loved this in him.

He took a long drag from the cigarette, laughing to himself and shaking his head as he exhaled the smoke.

“You’re incredible.” He looked at Abel with an approving smirk, and the blond replied with a cute, mischievous smile; the same little smile that spread on his lips after they did well on training and Cain praised his navigating skills or after they had sex outside the bunk or simply risked being caught by kissing in a public area of the ship. That little smile and all Alexei wanted was to crawl through the tacky table and devour his navigator right then and there.

He eyed Abel for another lustful second, but eventually tore his gaze away. As much as he wished for everything to be the same as during their happiest days on the Sleipnir, things clearly changed and he needed answers before daring to make a real move on Abel. Now that the heat of the moment passed, he wouldn’t be sure if even kissing the man was right or not. He was thinking about which question to ask next, but Abel was faster than him.

“Look, if you… if you want me to leave, I get it. I won’t be offended.” He looked genuinely worried, almost remorseful.

“Nah, why would I want that? I’m just surprised to see you here, that’s all. I don’t want you to leave.” He flicked off the ash and looked at Abel thoughtfully. “You know I… never thought I’d see you again. After all that’s happened, what I’ve done… You had all the right to hate me, and I was sure you do.”

Abel thought for a while before replying, staring at the steaming glass held between his palms.

“I never really hated you I think. I was just… disappointed and hurt. _Very hurt._ I never thought I’d want to see you again, but… I was always missing you, even after all that. Then things changed and I just... I just decided it’s better to leave the past behind, and focus on the present. And I realized, that what I desired the most in the present, was to be by your side. I know it’s ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it... I can’t forget what happened, but I think I can forgive… I just really wanted to see you before…. well, just wanted to see you again.”

Alexei stared at him in disbelief for a quiet moment. He imagined Abel showing up and forgiving him so many times during their one year apart, but he never once hoped it would ever become reality. Seeing him sitting across the table in only an arm’s length and hearing him saying the words he secretly craved for was the most wonderful and most surreal thing that had ever happened to him.

“You really mean that?” He asked silently. “You really forgive me?”

“Yes. I want to.”

“You know that I… I didn’t want to hurt you, right? Nor lying to you, nor any of the other bullshit, but I wasn’t fully briefed in, and Bering told me –“

“Cain! Please, stop…” Abel interrupted him, raising his hand in front of him as if the simple movement would silence him like a magic trick. “Let’s just, forget about it OK? We can’t change what happened. You must’ve had your reasons. I won’t ask; I don’t even want to think about it anymore. I just want to believe that whatever was between us, it meant something, to both of us. Because it meant a lot to me, it really did.”

“…I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me back then if it didn’t.”

Abel sighed in relief, a small smile on his lips.

“OK then.”

“Yeah, OK.”

“…Clean sheet?”

“Yeah, clean sheet.”

They smiled at each other and Abel reached his hand out through the table. Alexei stubbed out the remains of his cigarette and grabbed it, squeezing slightly.

Abel was looking at their entwined hands and sniffed a litte, caressing Alexei’s fingers with his thumb gently. Then suddenly he gripped the ex-fighter’s hand with unexpected force, his hold becoming shaky and jittery. He jerked his hand out from Alexei’s grasp with a quick movement, hiding his lower arms under the table, a sob escaping his trembling lips.

Alexei didn’t understand what happened, didn’t know what he did wrong; he only knew that Abel was crying again, big, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, and he didn’t know what to do, was never good at dealing with crying people, especially with crying men.

“Hey there, hey…. what’s wrong?” He tried in a hushed voice, attempting to sound as soothing as he could. Abel didn’t reply, only threw his glasses onto the table and pushed his fingers hard into his pretty waterfall eyes. Alexei looked around in panic, then clumsily climbed out from the booth to slide next to Abel, putting his left around his shaking form, rubbing at his arm reassuringly.

“Come on princess, what’s the big deal? You wanna flood the colonies this much?” Abel laughed a little, but didn’t stop crying. Alexei had no idea what to do. When Abel got sad up in space he just kissed him senseless and fucked him into the mattress to distract him, but that wasn’t a feasible solution at that moment. “Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here, you’re here, we’re back together, it’s all good. Hey now… look at me baby, look at me.”

He raised Abel’s chin forcefully to look him in the eyes, getting somewhat emotional upon seeing Abel’s face all puffy, his lips in a trembling pout, trying to hide his tears still falling. He nuzzled his nose to his ex-navi’s, kissing some of tears away from his reddened cheeks.

“You look like an offended tomato when you cry, knew that?” he said jokingly, trying his best to distract his blond Earthian from whatever made him into a weeping mess. If fucking was not an option, he could always try being an asshole and piss Abel off enough to stop him from sulking. Or at least that’s how it was back on the spaceship. He knew he won when Abel laughed a little.

“Fuck you, Cain.”

Alexei snorted, kissing into Abel’s faint smile, licking the salty tears off his velvet mouth.

“That’s better.”

Abel pulled away and tried to dry his eyes with his sleeves. He seemed exhausted and sad, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah… I’m sorry for that, I think I’m just really tired… and my head hurts.”

“Well crying definitely won’t help that. Want me to get you a ride, take you back to the hotel?”

Abel shook his head, took a big sip of his tea before replying.

“I don’t know where I’ll stay yet.”

“You don’t know?”

“No… I guess coming here was a sudden decision. I will just stay wherever I’ll get a free room.”

“Well aren’t you a lucky girl, princess.” Alexei nudged him in the shoulder playfully. “I happen to know a pretty good hotel.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“That’s good. I didn’t look up any.” Abel smiled sheepishly. “Hopefully they’ll have a free room.”

“They will.”

“How do you know?”

“Cause you gonna sleep in my room, princess. You didn’t really think I’d let you stay in a hotel, did you?”

He grinned at Abel mischievously, and suddenly remembered how much he loved confusing him. Silly Earth boys, all so naïve, all so easy.

“Well, I…” Abel stuttered “I don’t want to disturb you, I’m sure you –“

“Hey, I offered, so chill.”

“But…”

“I said chill. You wanna go now?”

“It would be nice, yeah.”

“Your wish is my command, Princess Abel.” Alexei said jokingly as he slipped out of the booth. “Stay put and finish that, I get us a ride.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you in advance for any kudos & comments!  
> I'd love to hear what you think! ❤


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally it happened: I finished the next update! Thank you so much for your patience with me. ♡  
> Learning from HM, I will humbly try to make up for my long break in this fic with a double update! 
> 
> I also made a little, silly extra for this chapter. You can check it out here:  
> http://sparkly-things.tumblr.com/post/168168973081/heres-a-little-thing-ive-made-for-meteor-shower

(((ABEL)))

The truck stopped in front of a row of identical little houses; all the same dull greys, nothing fancy or extraordinary about any of them, surrounded by the same tall metal fences with lock systems that glowed with a faint shade of blue in the surrounding darkness.

Ethan shivered as he exited into the freezing air from the comfortable warmth of the cabin, his thin boots sinking ankle-deep into the icy snow. Cain jumped off after him, shouting something to the driver in Russian – a big, bulky man in a worn-out thermal coat and a ridiculously big black ushanka with Russia’s coat of arms on it – before closing the door and tapping it a couple of times as goodbye. The truck honked and sped away, leaving Ethan alone with Cain in the late-night silence.

Cain started for one of the houses and Ethan followed. He watched as he entered the code at the gate, pushing it open and going right to the entrance. Ethan was so excited that he even forgot about his raging headache for a second; after so many times of wondering who Cain really was, where he lived and how he was as a civilian, he finally stood at his door, only one step away from finding out the answers. Cain looked back at him for a second, as if making sure he followed, then pushed the mysterious door open and stepped inside, holding it for Ethan to enter.

Ethan felt dizzy from the excitement as he carefully stepped through the threshold. The walls of the narrow hallway were glowing in a warm grey shade, the soft lights illuminating them making the cold colour seem almost inviting. He didn’t even hear Cain throwing his boots and coat off, startling when the fighter was suddenly behind him, grabbing his arms in a too familiar way.

“Gimme your coat,” he said, helping Ethan fumbling out of his jacket and scarf and throwing them atop of a pile on the coat rack. He pushed through the door next to Ethan, stepping into the darkness of the next room, turning the lights on. “Come.”

Ethan quickly took his boots off, putting them neatly together next to the wall and wandered after his former fighter. The room he entered was the most unusual mix he ever saw: the modern, minimalist, pre-arranged design of the house was almost overpowered by warm, crazy colours and old Earth antiquities scattered around. The kitchen and dining room were combined with the living room, crowding everything together in practical ways. Many things around the place he only saw on photos before, in articles of fancy magazines read by his mother, showing the readers the ‘traditionalist style’ as they called it, claiming how some people refused modern interior designs to treasure the way Earth homes looked decades ago. Colourful carpets, old books, cheesy fake flowers and retro Earth devices were all around the room, and Ethan stood frozen in the middle, not being able to tear his eyes away from the polychrome diversity.

“So this… this is your home,” he half said, half asked, looking back at Cain who just came back from another room. It was so different than he imagined, so different than Cain and yet oddly fitting.

“Nah,” the ex-fighter replied. “I wish. This is my sister’s house, but I stay here for now.”

“Oh.”

Cain’s sister – he remembered Cain mentioning her back on the Sleipnir, but the possibility of meeting her or the rest of Cain’s family was something he never even thought about. It made him realize again how hasty his little escape plan was.

“I show you where you’ll sleep. Come,” Cain said, signalling him to follow.

He led Ethan to the back of the room, entering a narrow hallway with a single door at the end of it. He pushed it open and gestured for Ethan to enter.

“Welcome to my little shithole, princess.”

Looking around, Ethan felt even more dumbstruck than before. The room had metal walls and only a few, tiny windows close to the ceiling – all of them shut tight, which explained the stale air inside. Cain’s unmade bed was at the back with heavy metal cupboards hanging above and the weirdest combination of things scattered around it. The cold floor was covered by various small carpets, and apart from one wardrobe, nothing was designed to be in a bedroom. Big cardboard boxes, an extremely old Earth machine that Ethan didn’t knew, various small metal containers and barrels – Ethan couldn’t even take count of them.

Cain pushed him further in, stepping beside him.

“Not the luxurious hotel you expected?” he asked mockingly, throwing his warm jumper onto a pile of clothes on the floor. “This is the garage. Anna tried to make it into a room for me, but didn’t have any other place to put all these random shit, so they stayed.”

“It’s fine… I was just surprised,” Ethan said, putting his backpack timidly down onto the floor.

“You’re fine sleeping here?”

“Yeah, of course. Thanks.”

“Good. I bring some clean sheets, get comfy.”

“You don’t have to,” Ethan said quickly, not wanting to cause more trouble for Cain. He already felt bad enough invading his personal space.  “I’m fine with these, really.”

“No, you’re not,” Cain smiled at him smugly. “Believe me Abel. I better bring clean sheets.”

He winked at him and Ethan sighed a small laughter. Left alone, he wandered around the room, eyeing every weird object, then stopping in front of the open wardrobe. He touched a few of Cain’s clothes absentmindedly; caressed the sleeve of a so familiar Alliance fatigue and ran his fingers along the collar of an old leather jacket he never saw Cain wearing. He jumped a little when Cain’s deep voice startled him from behind.

“Found anything interesting?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I don’t mind,” Cain groaned while throwing a big pile of colourful bed sheets and blankets on top of a big cardboard box, starting to yank his old bed sheets off clumsily. “We saw each other’s asshole up close, not much secrets left.”

He smirked at Ethan who snorted and blushed at the same time hearing the obscene truth, trying to ignore the painful stab he felt at his heart. Hearing Cain mentioning secrets put a lump in his throat still, clean sheets or not.

He stepped to the bed and grabbed a pillow, attempting to distract his thoughts from the bitter memories. He tried his best to hide how he felt jittery and weak even from such a simple task as lifting a pillow to change its sheets; his fingers started to cramp painfully when he tried to unbutton the cover that smelt too much like Cain even from this far, so he tried his other hand but failed again, not noticing the small, annoyed sound he made. He tossed the pillow back to the bed nervously and saw Cain watching him with puzzled eyes. He felt too weary to start explaining his big sad story, too weary to come up with any lies to explain his behaviour and too weary to even think clearly and decide whether he wants Cain to know the truth to begin with. He decided to back out from the situation and diverted the topic instead.

“Hey, can I take a shower maybe? I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah, sure,” Cain replied, keeping a wary eye on him. “Bathroom opens from the living room. Towels in the cabinet. Will you find it?”

“Sure,” Ethan said, forcing a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, thanks. I will just... yeah.”

He grabbed his backpack and almost ran out of the room, suddenly feeling nervous and sick. He found the bathroom quickly, shutting the door closed behind him and leaning heavily against it.

 _‘_ _What the hell was I thinking?_ _’_ he thought, clasping a trembling hand over his lips to stop himself from crying, the same weak uncertainty taking over him as on his first mission with Cain, when he burst into tears during his first time sitting in the Reliant. The same scared and panicky feeling washed over him, and he already felt his eyes welling with hot tears, as so many times before on that day. He felt ridiculous. Pathetic. He cursed himself for coming after Cain, cause the fighter would surely notice that he was not okay, he wouldn’t be able to hide it, and he needed that goddamn medicine but his stock of it was so limited, and he was scared, _so damned scared_ , and felt so alone even with Cain welcoming him as if that one year apart was not existing.

What would Cain do upon finding out that he was damaged goods now? He was not even sure that he could have sex properly, not to mention leading a proper, independent life. And when he would find out that he was basically a deserter, a runaway who escaped the white red-crossed prison of the Alliance without even telling his parents or doctors about it? Would he report him to the military? Let him be taken back to the endless cycle of examinations and tests and interrogations? Cain already betrayed him once… why was he thinking he wouldn’t do it again?

_‘What was I thinking really??’_

 

Cain was sitting on the sofa in the living room when he came out of the bathroom, watching some Russian variety show. He looked at Ethan when he heard the door unlocking, eyeing the blond from head to toe as he stood there timidly in his underwear and a white shirt he stole from the hospital, glasses still a bit cloudy from the steam.

“Well hello there beautiful,” Cain smirked at him, standing up to walk towards him slowly, almost menacingly. “Ready for bed?”

“Yeah, I’m so tired,” Ethan said, sending a small smile at his former fighter, still getting just as excited from him approaching as in the first weeks of their assignment together. Even after all that happened between them, Cain attracted him like a magnet, all his little tricks still working on him like magic.

“Sexy socks,” Cain mocked him, grinning down at Ethan’s feet. “Shall I escort you to your bedroom, my Princess?”

He bowed a little, taking his imaginary hat off and earning a small laugh from Ethan. He put a warm hand on Ethan’s back as he led him to the bedroom, kissing him on the forehead when they reached the door.

 “Well, good night, princess.”

“You don’t come?” Ethan asked, puzzled.

“I’ll sleep in the living room. Sofa’s small but I’ll manage. Slept there before.”

“You don’t have to…” Ethan whispered, but Cain cut him off.

“It’s okay sweetheart. My decision. Now get your pretty ass into bed.”

He turned Ethan and tried sending him away with a pat on his ass, but the blond turned back and took a tentative step towards him.

“I don’t mind, if you…. if you sleep with me,” he whispered, sliding his fingers timidly into Cain’s hand. “We sleep together. Remember?”

Cain snorted and leant his head back, rubbing his face with his free hand and squeezing Ethan’s with the other.

“Ah you… damn. All right,” he let Abel go and pushed him inside the bedroom. “We sleep together, huh… I’ll take a round in the shower and will follow, you go ahead.”

 

 

(((CAIN)))

Abel was sound asleep by the time he returned to the room, which solved the dilemma he fought with in the shower: make a move on Abel tonight or not?

Climbing into bed, he leaned over him, studying his face. He still couldn’t believe that he was there, safe and sound in his bed, returning to him that easily. No drama, no questions, just the two of them together. He never believed in miracles before, but he couldn’t find any other explanations for this. Only a miracle could make Abel forgive him this easily and bring him back to him. 

He gently caressed a stray lock of whitish blond hair out of Abel’s closed eyes and leaned down to press a lingering kiss in the corner of his velvet lips. He nuzzled into his soft hair, inhaling his sweet scent that he missed so much, feeling tempted to wake him up but deciding against it, knowing Abel probably needed rest.

He pulled the heavy duvet up around Abel’s shoulders; his loss of muscle and weight was obvious in his thin white shirt. Alexei noticed it before, saw how the ridiculous glasses were not the only change in Abel’s looks, but he only got sure now, examining him up close without the threat of his stupid heart exploding by how nervous he felt. He seemed alarmingly tired, skinny and pale, looking only like the shadow of the brilliant navigator he was on the Sleipnir, full of energy, bravery and lust. It frightened Alexei, frightened him more than Abel’s sudden appearance, more than having Abel see his shitty life, more than anything.

He lay down next to him, careful not to wake him. He shuffled closer, feeling embarrassed by how much he wanted to bury his face into Abel’s neck as a silent apology, feeling guilty and scared, even if he knew he should be happy and grateful for him for being there with him. He stopped himself from startling him awake by moving too close, too afraid of being rejected anyway, so he just took Abel’s icy hands in his and closed his eyes, knowing that his dreams can’t surpass the sweetness of his reality anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the second chapter of the double update!
> 
> Please let me add some extra text here, since it's time for me to express my gratitude to many people! (As you can tell I'm already in the Christmas mood. :D)
> 
> I'd like to say a huge THANK YOU to two of my best friends first, Holly and Bobby.  
> Holly helped me immensely by being the beta for these chapters and by supporting me with her friendship at all times. I named one of my ocs of this story, Olga, after her.  
> Bobby is my irl bestie who has the patience of a saint for listening to me talking about Starfighter non-stop and whining about my fanfictions, often giving me great ideas. For this I'm incredibly grateful.  
> My next big thank you is for all of my tumblr followers, who were kind enough to put up with all of my bad days when I poured out my writing insecurities into some ugly posts.  
> Last but not least, I'd like to say thank you for the people at the Starfighter discord server, for helping me out on multiple occasions.  
> \+ extra kudos to my sister, who lives together with me and who bears with me when I explode during my writing sessions. :3  
> I love you all so much, THANK YOU!! ♡♡♡♡♡
> 
> Okay, I will let you read now. :D Enjoy!

(((ABEL)))

He woke up slowly, hazily; the warmth surrounding him was oddly comforting and peaceful. His head still felt heavy and numb, the unpleasant after-effect of the tormenting migraine and the aggressive medication making him wish he’d never had to get out of bed. He just gathered his sleepy thoughts enough to decide that he would ask the nurse to tell his doctors he didn’t feel well enough to get out of bed, when a piercing memory cut through his foggy mind: he wasn’t in the hospital anymore.

His eyes shot open and he suddenly felt wide awake, hyperaware of the unusual scents around him, the unknown room and the bed he was lying in, _Cain’s bed_ , in an unfamiliar home on Mars Colony no. IV, far away from everything he knew, from every small bit of certainty and safety, and he suddenly didn’t feel so comfortable anymore. He felt trapped in a surreal dream; the room started to spin around him, making him feel nauseous and scared. He shut his eyes quickly and buried his head into the pillow, not being able to decide if he should clutch at his nervous stomach or aching chest. He felt like crying, screaming and throwing up, trembling with cold but burning up at the same time, heaving into the pretence-safety of the pillow and trying to ignore the threatening sensation of fear that overpowered him.

He was lying like this, shaking in panic for minutes that felt like hours, but slowly everything started to clear up. His breathing and racing heart calmed down, the sickness left and he felt awake again, for the second time that morning. He gave himself some more time to get himself together, to listen around for any movement or noise that would give away Cain’s presence in the room, but everything was dead silent.

He sheepishly peeked out from under the massive blanket, but the bed beside him was empty, so as the rest of the room. A relieved sigh left his lungs; he didn’t even realize he was holding his breath. Now that the immediate danger of facing Cain first thing in the morning disappeared, he tried to calm himself down completely, taking deep breaths and letting his heavy eyelids fall close again. He snuggled back into the feigned safety of softness and warmth, relishing in the feeling of his tense muscles relaxing into the mattress.

He tried to remember last night, but everything felt like a weird dream. He remembered the endless hours of search after Cain, the freezing cold, then finding Cain, kissing in the snowfall and then the piercing pain in his head that made everything blurry after that. He could more or less recall talking to Cain, then getting into a smelly old truck with a big driver, and then Cain’s home, but the rest of his memories got bleary and confusing. The shrieking headache always made everything messy in his mind; he felt like being awake after a night spent just a little bit too drunk, when you’re able to recall the happenings of last night, but still everything seems foggy and surreal.

His last memory was taking the brutal painkiller in the bathroom after showering, and he vaguely remembered Cain escorting him back to the bedroom too. But everything after that faded away; he didn’t even know if Cain slept next to him in the end or not.

Getting too tired by his forced attempts to remember everything, he surrendered to the familiar sinking feeling as he slowly fell asleep again, his last worrisome thoughts revolving around Cain and about the weighing question of what should he do next.

 

He woke up several hours later, thirsty and feeling way too hot suddenly, sweaty and nauseous. He kicked off the suffocating blankets and sat up, trying to gather enough power to get out of bed; it took him several deep breaths and all his willpower, but he succeeded. His head was spinning and his legs carried him weakly, but he managed to get his water bottle out of his backpack and downed the remaining few gulps in it. He stumbled back to the bed to get his glasses, getting a tiny bit of confidence by finally seeing his surroundings clearly. Looking around again, he noticed a small note duct taped to the door:

_“Morning Princess!_

_Had to go to work. My sister’s home, she’ll take care of you._

_See you tonight._

_PS: you still cute sleepin :P”_

Ethan smiled as he reread the note a couple of times before deciding to put it into his backpack. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to read it in the further future, but he still wished to keep it.

Sitting back on the bed, he contemplated staying in the safety of the room until Cain got back. He used to fight Colterons up in deep space, yet going out and facing Cain’s sister freaked him out. His growling stomach and the need to use the restroom urged him to overcome his fears, but he felt like an intruder and a weird stranger in this unusual place, and even though he didn’t regret his decision to see Cain, he never thought about this part. He always worried about their reunion, but never considered what would happen after: where would he go, what would he do, what would they become.

 

Finally he stood up and put on his clothes from the previous day, scolding himself for being such a coward. It took all his courage to open the door and step out on the long, empty corridor; cautiously peeking over the corner, he found the kitchen empty, so he quickly made his way to the bathroom and tried to get himself together before meeting Cain’s sister, which made him unexplainably nervous.

Turning off the water after washing his face, he heard movement in the kitchen: cabinet doors closing, water running, the low humming of music. He took a last glance in the mirror, preparing himself to meet the woman; his hair was an unruly blond mess that he couldn’t tame, he looked too skinny and too tired, and he was wearing the same clothes that he wore in the past two days, but there was nothing he could do about it. He turned to the door and took a deep breath before cautiously stepping out into the dining room.

A slim woman was standing with her back to him, around the same height as him, with her long black hair up in an unkempt ponytail. She was stirring something in a bowl, singing along the Russian pop song that played on the radio, not noticing Ethan entering the room. He stood awkwardly some steps away from the counter, trying to decide if he should just run back to Cain’s room or say hello before opting for the latter.

“Good morning,” he said in a tiny voice, making the greeting sound like a question.

“Боже мой!” she yelped, nearly dropping the bowl and clasping at her heart before turning to Ethan with wide eyes. “You scared me!”

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I just…”

“No worry, it’s fine! Sit, sit!” she wiped her hand in a flowery dish towel and went up to Ethan, smiling. “I’m Anna, Alyosha’s sister. Sorry for not introducing myself yesterday.”

“Alyosha?”

“That’s short for Alexei. I guess you didn’t really call each other by your real names, eh?”

She offered her hand and Ethan shook it gently, suddenly remembering why she was so familiar. He was almost sure that she was the bartender at the pub yesterday, the woman who told him to wait for Cain there. He wasn’t that surprised to find out about their relations; up this close he could definitely see the resemblance between her and Cain. They both had the same dark hair and eyes, even similar features; she looked like a softer, female version of his former fighter.

 “No, not exactly… I’m Ethan.”

“Ethan, nice to meet you! Sit! I make you breakfast, you hungry, yes?”

“Um, yeah, thanks.”

He sat down and watched Anna return to the abandoned bowl. He only now realized how hungry he really was. She smiled at him over her shoulders. She seemed kind and friendly so far; definitely not how he imagined Cain’s sister. She had a thick Russian accent and a determined voice, but she wasn’t intimidating at all.

“I make pancakes. You like them?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good! I already ate, but didn’t want to make your share until you don’t wake up,” she threw him another small smile as she poured some butter into a frying pan. “So if I know right, you were Alyosha’s partner in the army, yes? How do you say… his navigator?”

“Yes, that’s right. We were in a fighter-navigator team.” Ethan felt a sharp stabbing in his heart as he remembered the painful details behind him being paired up with Cain. He really didn’t want to talk about that, now that each sweet memory was bitter and poisoned by Cain’s betrayal, but he didn’t want to seem rude by changing the topic too quickly. He didn’t know what to say or ask, anyway.

“Not only his navigator though, right?” Anna asked, winking at him, and Ethan felt the blood freezing in his veins. He didn’t remember if he kissed Cain in front of her or not. He didn’t want to lie about his relationship with Cain, but also didn’t want to out him in case he kept this side of him secret from his family. He was in the middle of making up some semi-transparent lie at least, when Anna continued.

“Saw your warm welcome kiss yesterday. It was very cute.”

“Oh… oh that, I see… I hope I didn’t make things awkward for him.”

“Don’t worry. You were not the first boy I saw him kiss. You were the first one in a very long time, though.” Ethan just stared at her, speechless. “So you came to visit him? How long will you stay?”

“I don’t know yet… Ah, but I will look for a hotel today! Thank you for letting me sleep here yesterday. It was a big help.”

“Don’t worry, you stay! Alyosha and I, we already agreed. You are our guest, so please, feel yourself at home! Here, eat.”

She put a plateful of pancakes in front of him, accompanied with a jar of some red fruit jam that smelled delicious. Suddenly he felt so hungry that he could hardly stop himself from devouring the whole portion at one bite.

“Thank you!”

“Good?”

“Yes, very good! Thanks,” he said between two bites, smiling up at her shyly. She returned the gesture as she started to make more pancakes.

“I make a lot, so eat while they last! My family arrives and all the pancakes disappear!”

She laughed a little, and Ethan pretended to laugh too, but the mention of Anna’s family made him anxious. He felt even more as an intruder now; even if Cain let him stay, was it really okay for him to barge into someone’s family life like that?

He was just about to ask if it was truly all right for him to stay, if her family was not bothered by it, when he heard the front door open. He could feel his stomach drop.

“Ah, here they are,” Anna said, not even looking away from the frying pan.

First Ethan heard a big thump, shoes flying to the ground, then a deep male voice, talking in Russian. A second later, a high-pitched scream followed.

“принцесса!!!”

A small girl ran up to him, long black hair bouncing around her tiny frame. Her eyes grew wide as she inspected Ethan up close, looking him up and down, amazed. She ran to Anna, yanked her shirt and jabbered some questions to her in Russian, pointing at Ethan shamelessly. The woman answered her in the same language, seemingly scolding, to which the little girl ran back to Ethan.

“Hello!” she chirped, an amused smiled spreading on her lips. “My name Olga. You Princess?”

Ethan almost laughed at the sudden outburst. Was calling him princess a Russian thing? Did Cain tell her this?

“Um, hi! My name is Ethan, actually.”

“No, no! I show!”

She ran to Cain’s room without another word. Anna looked after her, shouting something angrily in Russian again.

“Sorry for that, she can’t speak English very well yet. Once she found that…. oh, Kolya, welcome home!”

A sturdy man entered the kitchen; he threw a hostile glance at Ethan, then went to get a beer out of the fridge. He took a big gulp and exchanged some words with Anna; Ethan didn’t understand the foreign language, but the tense and angry tone of their speech was obvious even to him. On his way out, he spat some mean-sounding words back to Anna, and left without looking at Ethan even once again.

Anna sighed deeply and shook her head. She glanced at Ethan apologetically.

“Sorry for this. That was my husband, Nikolay. He can be an asshole like this, but he will calm down, no worries. He is just… well, not very fond of Earth people.”

Ethan’s heart sank upon hearing this; he was an unwelcome guest after all. He was just about to insist on going to a hotel, when little Olga ran out of Cain’s room and jumped up to him again with a photo in her hand.

“Look! It say, Princess. It’s you!”

He took the picture from her hand; it was a photo of him, from their days back on the Sleipnir. It was taken in their narrow bunk; he was sitting on their makeshift bed on the floor in his white singlet, looking up sideways at the camera, smiling dumbly, yet somewhat happily. A picture took sneakily, the way Cain liked it; calling out his name and snapping the picture just as he looked up unsuspectingly. A small lopsided crown was drawn on is head with blue ink, with the word ‘princess’ scribbled next to him with Cain’s big, pointed letters.

Ethan’s breath caught in his throat.

Why did Cain have this picture printed? What’s with that silly drawing? How did this little girl find it?

“Olga!!” came the surprised shout from Anna. “What did I say? No searching in Alexei’s room! He will be very angry at you, you can’t dig his things up!”

“But look, mama! It’s him! See!” she yanked the picture out of Ethan’s hand and threw it on the counter for Anna to see, before looking up at Ethan, doe-eyed. She reached up to touch his face, caressing his hair with the tips of her small fingers. “Very beautiful! I love you!”

“What?”

“You are beautiful! I like the hair!”

“Um, thank you, I guess?”

“Say, you have cat?” she asked excitedly, grabbing Ethan’s hand. “You... have got the cat?”

“No, I... I don’t have a cat, I’m sorry,” he replied, throwing a puzzled glance at Anna.

“Oh...” the little girl seemed genuinely sad for a second before speaking up again. “I have the martian rats! Want to see? I bring him!”

She was out the door in an instant, not waiting for a reply again. Ethan looked at Anna questioningly.

“Please forgive her for rushing you like that. I told her that you are here this morning, and she got really excited. You see... she’s a kid, she likes exploring. Once she found that photo of you in Alyosha’s room, and stole it. Unlike her father, she’s really into everything Earth-related, especially animals. Anyway… she kind of fell in love with you and hid the picture under her pillow. Alyosha looked for it like a madman, and it took him weeks to find it. He was super angry.”

“Does she know that… you know, Cain… I mean, Alexei and I, that we are…”

“Ah, I’m not sure. As far as I know, he told her that you are a princess on Earth and so you can’t come to see her. But here you are!”

“She doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that I’m a male princess, tho…” Ethan laughed, trying to ignore the swirl of emotions awakened in him by the fact that Cain had a picture of him hidden somewhere in his room. Was he just hiding it from his family, or did it lie forgotten in a dark corner? Or did Cain still look at his pictures? Did he really care, or was his warm welcome a well-acted lie?

He didn’t have much time to think about it; he could already hear the running footsteps of Olga on the stairs, and soon she appeared in the door, holding a plastic box in her hand.

“Look! My rats! This one, Borya, and little one, Dima,” she pointed at the small animals one after the other. They were around the same size as their earth counterparts, but their fur was much stronger and thicker. One of them was pale white, the other a deep, brownish red. They were eyeing the walls of the box feverishly, climbing up occasionally to see if they could escape.

“This is martian rat, because it… um…” she looked at Anna and asked something in Russian, to which Anna turned to Ethan.

“She wants to say that they are different from Earth ones. Don’t ask me why, she’s the expert in this.”

Olga beamed at him, “Want to hold?”

“No, I better don’t… but thank you! They are cute.”

“Yes! When we move to Earth, I will have cat. And horse. And… um, giraffe, and fish and dog.”

Ethan smiled at her. He found her enthusiasm irresistibly cute, yet he didn’t know what to say to her, wasn’t sure how much she’d understand. He was never particularly good with kids anyway, never had to deal with them. Luckily, Anna saved him, coming up from behind the counter.

“Olga, put them back and wash your hands. You can have pancakes for lunch.”

“Yay!!!” the little girl exclaimed, not wasting a moment more on Ethan as she turned on her heels and ran back upstairs.

“You want seconds?” she asked him kindly, but Ethan shook his head.

“No, thank you, I’m full. Some water would be nice though, if it’s not a problem.”

Anna shooed him as she went back to the kitchen area to get a glass and a bottle of water.

“Shush, I told you! Feel yourself at home. Also, important,” she poured a glass and pushed it in front of Ethan, “this means that I won’t be asking you anything from now on. I’m a terrible host, so if you want to eat or drink, serve yourself. No need to ask, just take what you need. OK?”

“OK, thanks,” he smiled at Anna and downed the whole glass in one go. He enjoyed this directness, almost negligence in Anna, the same way he enjoyed it about Cain when they first met. She was a breath of fresh air after that year spent among the prim coldness of Earth-men; this changed atmosphere scared him the same way Cain scared him first, but he enjoyed it just the same.

He felt a familiar pull in his head, warning him of the killing headache that would soon follow. He felt rude just standing up and leaving Anna when she was being so friendly, but he knew that he either needed to take his painkillers or lay down before the nausea kicked in. He was lucky that his shaky hands didn’t betray him this time, making him drop his fork or worse, the glass full of water. He didn’t want to risk giving his condition away after such a miraculously healthy-looking hour.

“Um, would you mind if I went back to… to Alexei’s room? I still feel a bit off, must be from the interplanetary trip.”

“Sure, sure! Take the water bottle with you. It helps.”

“Thank you! For the food too, it was delicious.”

“No need to thank. Alyosha will be back in some hours. Have some rest, Ethan.”

He smiled thankfully at her, taking the bottle and turning to leave, wanting to run but forcing himself to walk normally.

 

He nearly collapsed when he closed the door behind him, his nerves and exhausted body suddenly overpowering him after being repressed for so long. He plastered his hand around his mouth and heaved painfully, his throat tight and pancakes threatening to resurface from his stomach. He wanted to cry but couldn’t, so he just stood there with shaky knees, his glasses nearly dropping to the floor.

He made his way to the bed embarrassingly slowly, placing his big glasses on the makeshift nightstand; he only now realized that they were only two cardboard boxes placed on top of each other. He climbed under the sheets and got the photo of himself out of his pocket; he sneakily took it from the counter when Anna didn’t pay attention. He took another look at the big, clumsy letters and the silly, oversized crown that was drawn badly on top of his head. This one picture, this one picture with this small gesture on it awoke so many questions in him, made him hopeful in an unhealthy way, and he hated himself for being hopeful, for letting himself be carried away this easily.

_‘No big feelings again, Ethan. Just enjoy his company, this one last time… Just some fun, no deep feelings.’_

He scolded himself like this until he felt sleep winning over his pounding head, hating and loving the scent of Cain surrounding him as he dozed off.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to comment if you liked/disliked something about the story!  
> I'm always excited to hear what you think.


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